


Tangledstuck

by DirkCrocker



Category: Homestuck, Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/M, Tangled AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirkCrocker/pseuds/DirkCrocker
Summary: I realize it would be incredibly uncool of me to just dive right into how I managed to wrangle in a catch like Jane. So, as the optimally cool dude that I am, I’m going to enlighten you. I didn’t use to be the amazing prince you know me as now, believe it or not. I was once a meager average thief. And by that, I mean I was an amazing truly talented top of the line thief. I was the top of the top. I was the Michael Jordan Alpha of the pack of wild Michael Jordans that roam the basketball deserts feasting on the corpses of smaller less talented basketball stars. I would love to sit down and drill this shit into your addled mind, but chances are if you’re listening to this, then you already the basic premise, and I’m sure Jane has told you the flowery exposition. So. This kiddies, is how I met Jane Crocker.





	1. Side A: Your name is Jane Crocker and you have a dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quilly/gifts), [SlaveToMyKeyboard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToMyKeyboard/gifts).



> Hello everyone! I just wanted to say this is especially dedicated to the amazing author Aquilldeferred (aka Quilly on AO3), and their phenomenal Life with Dirk and Jane series! It inspired me to finally express my love of the DirkJane ship, and really let myself enjoy what I love, not hide it behind what everyone else thinks. 
> 
> It's also dedicated to the amazing authors and friends that have been supporting me through writing this, my dear friend Sweatersnscarves specifically! So please, enjoy some good DirkJane (with a few references and tweaks dropped in) as Rapunzel and Flynn from Tangled!

Your name is JANE CROCKER, not Dirk Strider. Strider? Who is that? He’s not important right now. Your name is JANE. And today YOU WERE BORN! You are a very happy, bumbling BABY. You have MAGICAL HAIR, because your mother was sick while pregnant with you. The only way to save her, was having her DRINK THE SOUP OF A MYSTICAL FLOWER. Little did anyone know, a woman was previously harvesting the powers of the flower. But that isn’t important yet. The MYSTIC FLOWER POWERS were then transferred to YOU! Although I say again, you were BORN TODAY. You don’t know anything. You are a newborn child, with no object permanence or ability to even eat on your own. Even though, you are a beautiful bouncing baby, with blonde hair and eyes the blue of the three-in-the-afternoon-summer-sky. Your eyebrows are small black slivers on your face, and your SQUINT and BUCKTEETH make it seem like you’re going to be some kind of MASSIVE NERD.

And in comes the antagonist, previously mentioned flower addict. This horrible hooded creature reaches into your crib, taking a lock of your golden hair in her hand. She sings, and you look up at her confused. She isn’t your mother! You’re about to start crying when she sings, and your hair begins to glow. It glows, like a light in the dark of a cavernous hell, the light of hope. Or something equally romantic and bullshitty. The light and warmth flow into her, she ages in reverse as the previously mentioned mystical powers flood her back into youth. She tries to cut a lock of your hair, but the strands turn black and wilt once cut. She hisses--an animalistic sound with too much warble--and clutches her hand. She is determined to keep herself young, to not lose her precious flower again. And she picks you up.

 

 _=== >_  
_Jane: Grow up_  
_=== >_

You are now Jane Crocker, extremely gifted nine year old. You live here, in a very tall tower, with your mother. Or at least, that what’s she’s told you to call her. You don’t look anything alike, but Mother brushes your hair everyday and sometimes she sings to you. Mother protects you, she loves you, she loves you from the top of your hair to the bottom of it. She doesn’t mind that your eyebrows are black while your hair is blonde, she brings you food and cooks for you and lets you read to her, even though sometimes you’ll read to well and out her to sleep. She says you read too well, that’s why she falls asleep.

  
But back to your previously mentioned hair. It’s grown a lot, Mother says you’re never ever EVER allowed to cut it though. You just nod, because Mother turns very scary whenever you bring up the idea. You think short hair would look better on you though. You believe because of the sweets and sugary things mother tends to feed you, you’re a little round around the edges and short hair would look very cute. But instead you follow Mother’s directions and instructions, and sing when she brushes your hair.

  
Mother also says you’re never allowed to leave the tower. You like to pretend that’s because you’re a famous chef, you’ll be fawned over and the world will come to a standstill and everyone will want you to cook for them and nothing will ever get done ever again. What you don’t know, is that the King and Queen have sent thousands of boonbucks of search parties out to find you. You don’t know that your mother and father are really looking for you, their lost little princess. You, the now growing child they had lost years ago. Instead, all you do know is what mother tells you. The outside world is a dangerous place. It’s filled with selfish, horrible people. You have to stay in the tower. Where it’s safe. Where you won’t get hurt.

Every year on your birthday however, you’re allowed to look out the window of your home, to see the floating lights.  
They’re beautiful.

  
You look forward to them, some look like circles, some are tubes, and you can barely tell because mother hasn’t gotten you glasses yet, but the first light always looks like a cupcake. Today is your ninth birthday, and you fold your arms, looking up at the floating lights. Maybe one day.

 

 _=== >_  
_Jane: Grow up again_  
_=== >_

You are now Jane Crocker, wonderfully bright eighteen year old. Your nineteenth birthday is tomorrow, actually. Mother is out, and you’re in the tower where you always are.

“I wonder where my little buddy Sebastian has gone,” You say aloud, pressing your finger to your chin. You walk, a large and lazy circle around the main room of the tower.

  
It’s cozy. Open, with a tiny kitchen, and it has more than enough flat surfaces for you to store all the goods you bake. Your hand rests briefly on the tiny pile of murder mystery novels Mother has picked up for you over the years. You see the movement of a tiny robot scurry through the shutters of your sole window. You bounce over, stepping over the piles of your long blonde hair on the floor, and throw the window open.

“Ahah!” You yell, before you notice the little bunny is hiding behind one of your flower pots. “Oh… Well I guess,” You drag out your voice and turn away from the ledge. “Li’l Seb isn’t out here.” You hear him beep, and just as he moves to slink back inside you lasso his little paw with a lock of your hair. He gets pulled over the hook you usually use to pull mother up and you grin. He hangs, no surprised gasp or squeal, and you put him back down with a tiny scoff. “That’s twenty three for me, wanna go twenty four out of forty nine?” You smile, before Li’l Seb shakes his head. “Well then what do you want to do?” You ask.

  
He points, tiny rabbit finger pointed out towards the forest. “You want to go and find your creator?” You ask, putting your hands on your knees and leaning down to look at him. Seb nods his head, and you sigh. “I mean, I do like it here! You should too!” you say, standing up and rubbing little Seb’s head. His ears fold beneath your hand, but the glasses stay. Who puts those ridiculous shades on such a cute little bunny anyway? But you have to admit, they are very unique, and you can’t ever find yourself hating them. “Oh Li’l Seb,” you say, running your hand through a particular section of your hair.

  
You lean over the edge of the window, tummy pressing against the wood. You fold your elbow on the wood and rest your cheek on your hand. “Yeah, we could watch one of the three movies or read one of the books, but is that really what we want to do?” You adjust your glasses slightly and sigh. “At least we’ll get to look at the floating lights tomorrow.”

  
Picking up your friend, you bounce him a few times before going back into the main room. “What do you think, when will my life begin?” You ask him, before the little robot leaps from your grasp and scurries to his usual perch on the banister.

You hum a little as you begin picking up your armfuls of hair, draping it over your shoulders and gently tying it up, hanging it on a fixture above you so it doesn’t interfere with your sweeping. Grabbing the broom you hum a little louder, dancing as you sweep your way through the open kitchen, tapping your bare feet against the tile. “When will my life begin?” You look over to see Li’l Seb bouncing, swaying his long ears in beat with your humming and you giggle.

Your eyes catch on a tree outside your window after a few minutes of sweeping, the light catching the leaves in a way that makes you wish you had the artistic skill to paint. You’ll stick to your detective intuition though! You like to imagine that instead of being some lonely girl stuck in a tower, you’re a great detective, with a snarky assistant and an angry detective with a heart of gold and a giant villain that sets up bigger and badder challenges for you to top, at one point even having to fake your death. That’s when an idea hits you, you finish sweeping and as you set the broom back in it’s place. You snap your hand up in a play gun and ‘pull the trigger’ at li’l Seb. “Blam!” You yell, popping your tongue half out of your mouth.

  
Li’l Sebastian jumps up, putting his tiny hands on his chest and falling onto his back.

  
“Alas, my beloved partner has been slain!” You say, pulling down your hair and running over to grab your dusty and well worn fedora. You slid it on, over your hair it doesn’t fit too well--another reason you want to cut your hair--and stroke an imaginary mustache. “Time to figure out how my little friend bit the dust!” You hold back a silly chuckle, and pull out your favorite magnifying glass. What would be a better way to spend time than goofing around with your little friend? You let your imagination run wild, although you find yourself crossing over themes and characters from the dozens of other times you’ve played. You lose steam and let out a sigh, before nudging your robot bunny with your hand.

You’ve ran out of imaginary words--how did you even think of the word recuperacoon? What is that even supposed to mean?--to make for your silly sherlockian world, and you pile your hair around your feet. When you have nothing else to do, there’s no better way to kill a few hours than brushing your hair. Taking a seat, Li’l Seb walks over and hands you your hairbrush. You thank the tiny robot, and feel him settle on your lap. Time to brush your hair, Mother doesn’t like it when your hair is knotted, she says it ruins the magic. You used to like that she said it like that, but you still don’t agree with everything Mother says.

You think you hear Li’l Seb kick into sleep mode when you’re about a quarter of the way through brushing your hair. You murmur to yourself quietly. “When will my life begin?”

 

 _=== >_  
_Dirk: Scurry_  
_=== >_

First things first. Your name is DIRK STRIDER and you do not fucking “scurry.’

You’re running along the rooftops of the city, Meenah and Vriska following your lead as you scale the castle. Your boots dig into the shingles of the roof, and your hand catches a window ledge for just a moment. Looking out at the expanse of city, followed by miles of ocean on this side, you let out a sigh.

  
“Man, I could get used to a view like this,”

  
“Once we get that glubbin’ tiara you can OWN a beach like this, hurry it up Strider.” Meenah retorts, pulling on the back of your vest, turning you around.

  
“Yeah, yeah, I get it Meens, no need to be so violent.” You look back out over the ocean, and take a deep breath of the salty air. “Alright, I’m used to it.”

  
The blonde sighs and upturns her nose, blowing a raspberry at your briefly before Vriska hikes on her long braids. Vriska looks less than pleased with you two and your dicking around, but starts pulling out the rope before gesturing at the window with her chin.

  
“Thank god you two idiots have me, if it were up to you two you’d never get anything done.” Vriska grins, glasses glinting in what can only be described as an evil glare. Well that does make sense, the three of you are planning on stealing the lost princess’ tiara. In very few city states would something like this be acceptable, or even legal. Then again, probably nowhere.

Vriska ties the rope around your waist a little tighter than you were expecting, and you let out a breath as Meenah takes the satchel off of your side. You run the plan by one another again, when Vriska pulls on the rope again.

  
“Normally I’m fighting to keep my clothes on, ropes aren’t really over clothes stuff.” You reply, a small smirk on your lips.

  
“As if you’d ever get with a woman, you’re about as straight as Meenah is.” Vriska replies, tying an extra knot in the rope.

  
“Hey, I don’t do labels.” You say in your well worn deadpan, “And neither of you are exactly my type.”

  
“What is your type then?” Meenah asks this time, hands on her hips and eyebrows cocked underneath her glasses.

  
“I’ll get back to you on that.” You mumble, adjusting your shades and smoothing your hair a final time before dropping down into the hall.

The girls lower you down, slow and smooth. Your eyes watch every guard, their simple movements, when each one scratches his ass and tries to pass off an awkward belch. The hall is quiet, and the guards stand at attention, eyes set forward. They don’t even notice when you get lowered, lower and lower, until you float just beside the crown. It isn’t until one of the guards sneezes do you speak.

  
“Hay fever?” You ask, facade of steel back in it’s place.

  
“Yeah,” The guard replies. You don’t here anything else, your hand grabs the tiara, and Vriska and Meenah rip you back up.

“You idiot!” They both yell, Vriska flicking out her knife to cut you out of the rope, before pushing you down the shingles. The three of you slide, Vriska and Meenah growling and snarling, while you have the tiniest smile of adrenaline pumping through your veins. Now you hear the yells of the guards, the screams of warning, the realization of what they’ve lost. The castle goes into blind panic mode, a bad thing for you but by the time you’ve leapt across the roofs of homes and shops and crashed to the floor with only minor aches, you take that shit like it’s a seventy six dollar five star meal.

  
You managed to work the tiara back into the satchel--once Meenah throws it back to you--and the three of you book it onto the bridge leading out of the city.

  
Meenah yells swears back at the guards a few yards behind you three, and you just keep running, taking a few breaks to flash step ahead and save your energy. You can hear the guards and their horses galloping towards you, and you’re partially impressed with how chill you can seem at the moment.

  
“Ladies, today is shaping up to be a very big day!”

 

 _=== >_  
_Jane: Work up the courage to ask her the question_  
_=== >_

“This is it Li’l Seb, today is a very big day! Mmm-Hmm! I’m really going to ask her!” You yell, bringing a closed fist down on your open palm. “I’m going to ask her!”

  
You’re about to yell it again, when a voice calls from the distance. “Oh Janey!”

  
You can’t help but gasp.“That’s her!” You hush, running over to grab fistfuls of your hair and shoo Li’l Seb into his hiding spot. Lord knows what Mother would do if she found a creature like your little friend, she’d most likely break him to bits! “Don’t let her see you,” You say, “It’s time, and we’re going to do it!” You cheer.

  
“Let down your hair!” Mother sings again, although you can hear the impatience in her voice. “You know I’m not getting any younger down here!”

  
“Coming Mother!” You reply, running over and throwing your hair over the previously used hook and let it tumble down to reach the grassy forest floor. What did grass feel like? Mother walked on grass every day, but you never felt it yourself. You just barely feel her wrap the end of your hair around her boot, and tug again. You follow her instructions, and begin pulling her up with your hair. “Welcome home Mother!” you smile, giving a few huffs as Mother sits on the window ledge and turns into the main room.

  
“Oh Janey!” Mother Condesce replies, pulling her cape hood down from her head. Her darks hair frays, in curls and tufts that you wish you had. “How you manage to do that every glubbin’ day without fail!” She says, throwing in another one of the fish puns she adores so much. Her olive skin glints under her glasses, and you watch her set down even more boxes of mix and cooking ingredients for you to bake. She walks over and threads her ring clad fingers through your hair. “It looks so exhausting my little fish, if you’re ever reel-ing not up to that just let minnow.”

  
You like it when she gives you attention, it makes up for when she’s gone for long periods of time. You sigh a little bit as she runs her hands through your hair even more.

“It’s nothing at all Mother.” You say, even though you’re still heaving breaths.

  
“Then I don’t know why it takes your little fat arms so long to pull me up!” She grins, and you’re not too sure she means it lightheartedly until she talks again. “Hahaha, Just kidding, my sea anemone.”

  
You smile, a little wounded by her words but you keep your chin up and believe that she really does mean well.

“Hoo hoo, yes,” You adjust your glasses again, “Ahh, as I’m sure you know…” Mother doesn’t seem to pay attention to you, she unties her cape and drapes it over her mannequin. She ‘hmm’s and ’uhuh’s quietly, as if she’s pretending to pay attention to you. “Tomorrow is going to be a very big day!”

  
“Janey, Janey Janey Janey,” Mother says, pulling on a part of your hair, bringing your attention to her in front of the mirror. “Shh, stop talking. Look in the mirror. D’you know what I see?” She pulls sections of your hair forward, and they cascade down your shoulders. “I see a beautiful, healthy, confident young lady.” Her rings twist through your golden mane. You smile softly, and maybe you feel yourself stand a little bit taller. “Oh! You’re here too! Hahaha,” she chuckles, as you hunch back down. “Oh anemone, don’t worry, stop taking everyfin so seriously! You’ll be a massive beach at this rate!”

“O-okay so Mother,” You say, pulling your hair back behind your shoulders. “As I was saying before,”

  
“Mmm, nope! You’re going to have to sing to me before you can expect me to listen to your voice anymore!” She cuts you off, turning and running her finger over one of your cakes. You just made that one today, it was going to be a treat for tomorrow. “You’ll do it for me, won’t you?”

  
“Yes but of course Mother!” You barely manage to hold back a stutter, and shuffle across the empty main room to pull out her chair, your hair brush, and your stool, before she sits down and you unknot your hair from the walls and banister they had managed to wrap around in your running. When you sit down, Mother sighs and smiles, which makes you smile too. But, you’re still determined to get through everything and finally ask your question. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine,” You sing quickly.

  
“Jane!”

  
“Make the clock reverse,”

  
“Wait!”

  
“Bring back what once was mine, heal what has been hurt, change the fate’s design,”

  
“Jane! Stop singing so fast!” Mother is frantically brushing, but your eyes are closed. Your scalp is tingling and glowing, so you know the magic is going on, and Mother inhales deeply behind you.

  
“Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine.”

  
“Jane Crocker!”

  
“So as I was saying, earlier, tomorrow is a pretty big day!” You turn to look at her, but you get too intimidated and look down instead. “And before you guess, it’s my birthday! Tadah!” She sighs slightly fondly, and she looks younger so you know she won’t be too upset.

  
“Hmm, nonono, I disc-reefly remember, your birthday was last year.”

  
“Mother, you know birthdays are the- sort of an annual thing…” You tuck a loose hair behind your ear. “And, I want to tell you what I want, because I really want…” You feel your voice die down, even though you really want to do is stand up to her and go see the lights.

  
“Jane, what have I told you about mumbling? It’s pathetic and weak, and also so fitting of you,” You look up at her. “Only teasing! You’re adorable, ah.” She looks down at you, and grins that sharp toothed grin.

  
Your eyes look over to where Little Seb is hiding, his tiny glasses glint before he points at you, dramatically turning his thumb into an upward position. You smile gently, and feel his little tingles of support.

  
“I want to see the floating lights!” You yelp, looking up at Mother Condesce.

She freezes briefly, and turns to look at you. The light from the open window catches on her glasses, and you tense. “Oh, you mean the stars.” She tilts her head down, and she smiles at you like you’re an idiot.

  
“No, Mother please listen.” You scurry around the room, clearing everything out of your way. You grab the cake she previously ran her long nailed finger across, and gesture to it. It’s dark blues and purples blend with the light oranges and yellows of the lights, icing replications of what you remember the lights looking like last year. “I’ve charted the stars, from Sagittarius to Capricorn, and these aren’t stars. They only appear on my birthday, no time except for my birthday. I can’t help but feel like,” You spin the cake briefly, and then look back up at her. “I can’t help but feel like they’re for me.” She doesn’t say anything. “I need to see them, not just from the high up window of this tower. In the flesh.”

  
“You want to go outside? Why, you silly little sea anemone, you’re a just that! A delicate and little creature! Soft and warm and chubby, and fragile.”

  
“But-!”

  
“Not buts! The world is dark, decrepit, dangerous, with plagues and murderers, quicksand, cannibals!” She yells, hair flying around as she gestures wildly. “They’re eat you up alive! You’re chubby, underdressed, sloppy, immature, gullible, and ditzy!” She pokes you in the sternum and you fold in on yourself a little more. “Jane, don’t you understand how much danger you’ll be in if you go out there? Mother knows best!”

  
You didn’t understand exactly earlier, but the way she describes it, you do. It really is dangerous out there, strange men, weapons and danger around every corner. You nod a little bit. “Yes, I suppose you do.”

  
“Mother’s here, Mother understands you. Mother wants to keep you safe! And I will!” She twirls closer to you, her dress and flared sleeves rippling as she nears you. Her cold hands settle, holding your round cheeks and squishing them slightly. “And I’ll stay here with you, protecting you. One one condition,” She says, tilting your head up to look her in the eyes. Your crystal blue eyes meet her deep and threatening brown. “Don’t you ever ask to leave this tower again. If you do, you’ll regret it.” You can hear the spite turn spiky on her tongue, and your lip quivers a little.

  
“Yes Mother.” You reply, blinking slowly and looking down. She hums, and tilts your head down more.

  
“I love you so much my anemone.” She mumbles, burying her nose in the part of your hair.

  
“I love you more.” You smile weakly, and she releases her grip on your chin.

  
“I love you most.” She finishes, taking a step back, and walking over to the cake you made. She takes the cake slicer, and smashes it hard down on the cake, sending icing and cake onto the counter and floor. You still smile at her, and she smiles back at you. “No more chumming the waters with ideas like this.” She says, and you nod. “I need to head back out deary, there’s a sale on those cake mixes you like so much.” She says, chumming a different kind of water.

  
“The red velvet?” You ask, feeling excitement bubble up. She nods, and you grin.

  
“I was thinking I’d get you a few boxes, a little surprise. Even though you’ve got me spillin’ my guts here.”

  
You nod excitedly, Mother knows you so well. You love her, she’s protecting you so well.

  
“Now I’m going to get going,” She says, walking over and petting your head.

You run ahead of her, and prepare your hair again. She steps out, taking her position on your long locks, and you lower her down. “I’ll see you in a bit my anemone!”

  
“I’ll be here…!” You weakly yell back, feeling her reach the ground. “Where I always am…” You finish, laying your arms on the windowsill, and resting your head on your elbow.

 

 _=== >_  
_Dirk: Run your little ass off_  
_=== >_

What is with you being portrayed as fragile? Anyway, you are indeed running, but your ass is firmly planted where it belongs.

  
You’re huffing breaths, Meenah and Vriska running just alongside you. You twist and turn, through the forest and behind the trees. It isn’t until you three run by a large tree do you all stop for breath. The yelling of the guards has dulled into barely audible, and your attention catches on the three pieces of paper nailed into the tree bark.

  
“No! No no no no no.” You say, ripping of the leftmost paper. “This is horrible, everything has gone fucking pear shaped,” You say, looking at the paper dramatically, your voice rising in volume but not changing tone. You flip the paper around ironically, showing the girls exactly what’s so wrong. On the paper is you, a wanted sign with you wanted dead or alive for thousands of boonbucks. You’re wearing giant square sunglasses. “They just can’t get my shades right.” You say, waiting for the giggles or snorts when Vriska just smacks you on the back of the head.

  
“Who the hell cares?” Meenah snarls, pulling you by the jacket again.

  
“That’s easy for you two to say, you look amazing!” You gesture at the well done wanted posters of Vriska and Meenah, before shoving yours in your satchel.

It isn’t until a horse bursts around from one of the trees do you move, sending you and the girls sprinting in the opposite direction. You run--legs still burning from your previous exercise--push you forward though, only occasional trips on tree roots and dirt mounds. At least until the three of you reached an impasse, a huge wall of tree roots and dirt, a tall wall peaking over even you, the tallest of the thieves.

  
“Okay,” you start, keeping your cool, “Give me a boost, and I’ll pull you two up.”

  
“Alright, give us the satchel.” Meenah says, extending her hand greedily.

  
“What?” You ask, taking a half-step back and resting your hand on the bag.

  
“Give us the damn bag Strider, then we get you up, and you help us up.” Vriska reiterates.

  
“I can’t believe this, after all this time, you still don’t trust me?” You scoff, quirking your brows down.

  
“Hell no we don’t!” They both yell.

  
“Ouch.”

  
You relinquish the bag, handing it to Vriska. She takes her spot on Meenah’s shoulders, and the two of them lift you up so you can grab the dirt ledge and hoist yourself up the final stretch. Hopping up with a quiet grunt, you turn to look down at your cohorts.

  
“Pull us up Strider!” The girls yell, baring fangs and claws at you. There’s a flash, and you grin the tiniest tiniest bit.

  
“Sorry,” You reply, pulling up the small brown bag now in your hand to show your accomplices. Or most likely, ex-accomplices. “But my hands are full.”

“What?!” Meenah yells, taking a step back and sending Vriska tipping backward, she’s just barely lucky enough to jump back to land on her feet.

  
“Strider!!” They both yell, you tossing the bag into the air to grab with a haughty smirk, before taking off ahead, the sound of the guards finally reaching the boxed in thieves. You run, flash stepping and dodging each tree branch, hands shaking only slightly as you grab the satchel with your priceless treasure. You’re doing pretty well, or as least as good as you think you can be doing when a grey horse bursts its way through a bush to your left, sending you cursing and turning to run to the right. More horses follow, yells and curses slung at you like mud. You take them, hearing the captain’s voice ring out clearest of them all.

  
“Get that bag back at any cost!” He yells, he sounds like a pretentious dick, but you smile because he’s going to have to take this from your cold dead hands. The other guards yell in agreement, and there are a few neighs from horses. You knew they were intelligent beings, but damn.

You smirk, flash-stepping up into a tree and wrapping the handle of the satchel around a thin tree branch. Counting the seconds, you hear the horse of the commander run up behind you and you jump off from the tree branch. You swing, kicking the pompous asshole straight off his horse and taking his place, a straight face and massive balls the size of space hoppers as you ride the steed forward. You continue riding, the other horses stupidly stopping to help the leader.

Your newly acquired horse stops though. “Hey, come on.” You say, adjusting your glasses in a flash and pulling on the horse’s reigns. It stops, eyes glancing up to stare at you angrily, before eyeing the bag in your hand. He snaps at it, and you pull away. “Listen here you fleabag,” You grumble. Now is not the time, you need to get the proverbial hell out of this proverbial dodge.

  
The horse neighs angrily, and snaps at the satchel again. “No! Stop it! It’s mine!” It manages to grab the bag, and you growl in return, pulling it and wrestling as the horse gallops shakily around. You barely manage to hold on when it yanks hard on the satchel strap, that stretches and gives until it flings off. It’s flying towards the cliffside and it catches just barely on a tree branch, the tree itself essentially growing solely on hopes and dreams and a single rock.

You look over, meeting the eyes of the grey horse. It stares back at you, before the both of you sprint after the bag. It’s a mad dash, hooves practically up your ass, and your fist grinding against a long flat snout and you wrestle the equestrian asshole.You both snarl, biting and clawing at one another, trying to grab the bag, until the spindly tree you’re wrestling on emits a loud crack. You both freeze, and meet eyes once again. “Oh fuck.” You say, another crack meeting your eardrums, until suddenly you’re falling. You clutch the tree branch holding back a scream, something the horse doesn’t manage to do--it sounds like it swallowed about six porcupines and it reads rage comments nine times a day--while it yells in equestrian fear.

Who knew horses could really yell? You learn new things every day. Or at least days when you plummet to your quick and gruesome demise.

So yeah every day.

It doesn’t take long for the horse rupturing eardrum screeches to stop though, you’re falling down the cliff, clutching the tree branch for dear life when you hit a sharp rock, and the trunk splits down the middle. You go to the left and the horse screws off to the right. You roll, hard and fast and scrape the absolute shit out of your knees and your shoulders but you manage to maneuver your way into a shrub, tucked up tight as the horse sniffs around, searching for you. You wait though, and once the horse crawls off, you slink backward against a large rock.

Or at least, you thought it was a rock. Actually, it’s a false wall, ivy and vines decorated to hide something it seems. It leads to a passageway, and inside the high stone cliffs is a tower, and you can’t help but observe it, slightly perplexed. Well, if life threw you down, now’s your time to make your way back up. Also, the angry horse seems intent on finding you, the further from him you get, the better.

You walk closer to the tower, shades protecting your eyes from the early afternoon sun well, and your eyes catch on a few discarded arrows stuck in a rock. You don’t question them, you take your mysterious god given arrows and do only what makes sense. There’s no door to the tower, no windows anywhere NEAR reachable from the ground, and you stick the dulled head of an arrow into the mortar between two bricks. You pull it with your body weight, and it stays. So you stab the other a few bricks up with your other hand. And you climb your way up to the window, sweat practically pouring off you, and you just manage to cool off by the time you sit on the ledge of the window. Pulling the shutters open and closing them behind you, you sigh. It’s dark, isolated, and quiet.

  
“Finally,” You speak, opening the bag and looking fondly at the tiara, “some alone time wi-” and suddenly you’ve blacked out, and a thud echoes in your skull.

 

 _=== >_  
_Jane: Squeal and jump back, dropping your frying pan_  
_=== >_

You do that, oh golly goodness do you do just that. You’ve practically bolted from the intruder, hiding behind Mother’s chair. You’re cowering, hair in giant golden tracks leading through the main room. After a few seconds, you peek your head back out again though, and eye up whoever you just not-so-accidentally concussed.

  
He’s blonde, like you are. He landed face down so you can’t exactly see much else, but his skin seems to be tanned, with freckles dotting it all over his neck.

  
It isn’t until Li’l Seb hops forward do you look away from the man. Seb points excitedly at the man, and looks between the two of you. Your brows knit in confusion, before you bend down to grab the pan again. You gently poke a tuft of his hair, it seems soft yet stiff. He shifts slightly, and you ready your weapon. But he doesn’t wake up. So, you nudge him with the weapon, rolling his head onto his side. His glasses become apparent now, the same obnoxious triangles on your favorite bunny. So this IS the man that made Little Sebastian.

  
You don’t even notice when he comes too, he’s in the exact same position and his face never shows a single emotion. All he does is speak, and you can guess his eyes lock on your eyebrows before moving to your hair.

  
“Alright, how many hair dye factories do you own and how much to dye my tips-” He talks fast, but you panic before he can finish and smack him again. This time it really seems to work, Li’l Seb moving to knead his tiny paws into the man’s back like a cat, happy to see its owner.  
And you do what makes sense.

You heft the man up in your arms--a bit awkwardly as the first few time you try to pick him up he either falls or you squick out at the proximity--and throw him into your bureau. You shut the doors to the furniture, nervously pressing your hands to the wood, deep breaths in attempts to comprehend what exactly your brain just had you do. You have a man. In your bureau. A man, an unknown scary, possibly dangerous man, unconscious in your bureau.

  
You take a step back though, and that detective rush of adrenaline and high of excitement burns through you.  
“Too weak to handle myself in the world?” You grin, spinning the frying pan on your finger, “Tell that to this!’ You smirk, wrapping your hand around the handle of your frying pan and waggling your eyebrows. You’re about to start flexing when a glint catches your glasses. Turning, you notice a purse, or a bag with some kind of crystal formation sticking out. “Oh…” You say, pulling up armfuls of your hair to rest it nearby. Your fingers just barely touch the item, before your other hand brings around your magnifying glass. You inspect the crystal carefully, scanning it thoroughly before your reach down to grab it.

  
It’s cool, both temperature-wise and aesthetic-wise. It’s a large metal ring it seems, the crystals inset in a formation on the top.

  
“What is this?” You ask aloud, scrutinizing the clear value and accidentally pressing it up against your glasses. You can’t see through it as perfectly as your spectacles, they’re not for vision. It’s too round and large to be a bracelet and not big enough to be a necklace, it isn’t until you turn to look at the mirror do you get another idea. Little Seb nods, and watches. Taking the weird item, you set it on your head. It’s beautiful, light shining through the pink and blue gemstones, bright orange accents shining through especially.

  
You just watch, it’s delicate but sturdy metal, a little too tiny but you feel… pretty.

  
It feels right, and as your eyes glance over the biggest gem--almost the same blue as your eyes--you see it’s _almost_ shaped like a cupcake.

“Janey!” Mother yells, your attention retched from staring at the mirror. You run, briefly tripping on your hair, shoving the object back in the bag, and throwing it into one of the decorative pots in the kitchen. “Jane! Let down your hair!” She yells again, less singsong.

  
“Coming!” You yell, scrambling over to the window. You toss your hair over the hook, managing to give Li’l Seb a hurried and whisper yell to get to his hiding spot. He does, the little buster sneaking in just as Mother situates herself on your rope.

  
“I have a surprise for you!!” Mother trills, you pulling up hard on your hair, to get her up to the window quick.

  
“Hoo hoo, So do I!” You reply, a tiny smile on your lips.

  
“Oh, I be my surprise is better!”

  
“I seriously doubt it!” You whisper, feeling the excitement bubble and your adrenaline kick back in. You manage to bring her up, she lets go of your hair and sits on the windowsill for a moment. Turning, you smile as she looks at you.

  
“Come here Janey, let Mother give you her surprise.” She says, extending her arms. You rush over, quick for attention and touch, and she lets you hug her. She hugs back briefly, before pushing you away. You smile, and feel two tiny clinks around your wrists. Taking a half step back, you see that now around your wrists are bracelets, big enough to hang down but not big enough to slide off. Confused, you look at them when Mother Condesce speaks again.” Aren’t they buoytiful? They reminded me of you. Plain and simple.”  
They are, simple clean gold bangles that wrap your wrists.

“They’re beautiful,” you lift your arms to look at the bangles, and how she managed to get them on is beyond you. There’s no visible seam, but you knew they weren’t there before.

  
“Now, are you ready to make dinner?” She asks, suddenly pulling bags of groceries from her cape.

  
“Actually, I had something I wanted to tell you Mother,” She stands up, removing her cape and taking groceries to the kitchen floor.

  
“Mhmm,” She replies, “Now Janey, you know I don’t like leaving you after a fight,” She says, pushing aside plates of cookies and cakes, a few cookies end up sliding off, and onto the floor, but she just starts setting more mixes on the counter. “Especially if I did nofin wrong,”

  
You try to cut her off. “I’ve just been thinking about what you said earlier-”

  
“Please tell me you’re not still bubblin’ about the stars,"

  
“Yes, the floating lights, I’m getting to that-”

  
“I thought we docked the issue guppy,” Her ring clad hand grasps the cake mix box she was putting down, her long manicured nails digging into the cardboard. You look up at her, carefully stepping over to her and moving the mix boxes away from her. You quickly move to put away the other groceries as well, she’s gotten more than enough to make a few of your own cakes from scratch to boot. She’s so thoughtful.

“I know that you think I can’t handle myself out there-” You say, stepping back towards your bureau, where your undeniable proof rest.

  
“Jane, I KNOW. That you can’t swim with the sharks out there.” She’s angry now, her glasses glinting in the light and her tanned skin is flushed the barest pink.

  
“-But if you would just-”

  
“Jane we’re done talking aboat this-”

  
“Listen to me-” The two of are going back and forth, you’re getting more desperate and she’s getting closer to snapping on you.

  
“No!”

  
“Please Mother if you would just let me-!” She cuts you off again,

  
“Enough of this Jane! You are not leaving this tower! Ever!” Her hair whips and her voice raises higher than you’ve ever heard it before. Your hand is on the handle of your bureau, but it slinks off and against your chest. “Great,” Mother Condesce speaks after a few agonizing moments. “Now I’m the bad gill,”

You wait close to a minute before you speak. “I was just going to say, I know what I want for my birthday now…” You run your hands along your new bangles.

  
“What would that be, gillie?”

  
“Special icing for the red velvet mix you bought. The cream cheese kind, made from up north.” Your voice dies down, but you smile weakly at your mother.

  
“That is a very long way away,” She sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Mother runs her hands through her hair, and takes off her glasses before rubbing her eyes.

  
“I know… I just thought that it would be better than…” Your voice dies down yet again, “Stars…”

She sighs again, but puts on her glasses. Mother’s big brown eyes meet your blue ones, and she sets her hands on your shoulders. ”Jane, that’s a very far way away,” Her voice is quiet, almost regretful. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? Alone?”

  
“I’ll be safe as long as I’m here.” You reply weakly, and mother brushes some of your stray hairs off from your glasses.  
“Alright. For you, my precious anemone.” Mother replies, a rare and gentle smile on her lips. She tilts your head down, to press a kiss to the part of your hair like she always does. “I’ll be back in aboat three days time. I love you so much.”  
“I love you more.” You say, letting your bucktooth grin send a tiny smile across Mother’s face.

  
“And I love you most.” She finishes, picking up her trident and going to the window. You walk over slightly slower, and thread the hook. Mother steps on your hair, and you lower her down. “Goodbye anemone!” She yells.

  
You smile as she departs, pulling her cape hood back up. She takes off the the way she always does, and you wait until she vanishes from your vision to whistle for Li’l Seb. The small rabbit runs over, and you grab the trusty frying pan.

“Can I trust him?” You ask, hands shaking just slightly. The rabbit nods, and pulling the bureau door open you barely manage to catch the lanky fool. He’s tall, but thin, and remembering a few of your interrogation scenes, and scamper to put the man in Mother’s chair. You whip up one of your beloved fake mustaches and grab your dirty fedora. Sitting the intruder up straight, you can’t help but notice his tanned skin, and the freckles that decorate it in beautiful constellations and galaxies. His hair is almost bleached blonde, and somehow the shades have stayed in place almost perfectly through your attacks. He deserved them though! He broke into your house!

  
Hesitantly, you put your fingers on the shades, and debate removing them before pushing them back further onto the bridge of his nose. There’s no need to start making this weird.

  
Uhm…

  
More weird.

After a few minutes, you wrap his chest and wrists tight, your long blonde hair keeping him bound to the chair. He’s still, and you worry you’ve accidentally killed the fool when Li’l Seb shakes his head. The bunny walks over, you moving to stay comfortably outside of this man’s field of view in the shadows. Little Seb crawls up, to perch on the intruder’s shoulder. A tiny speaker emerges from his chest, and after a few seconds, a sound clip spits through the air.

  
“STRIFE!” A deep voice you don’t recognize yells, and your visitor comes to immediately, chest heaving and muscles clenching and unclenching rapidly, he’s even starting to sweat. It takes him a few minutes to calm down--his face never changed emotion--though you can bet that his eyes were dilating like owls turning from sunrise to sunset--,a few murmurs pleading to the air, mumbling to some name that starts with a ‘D.’

  
Little Seb flees though, and runs to your lowered hand, before you set him on your shoulder where the little fella belongs.

When he speaks slowly and coherently, his voice is smooth and it has the tiniest rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh. This is more hair than I would expect on any living being in existence.”

  
“I know why you’re here! Who sent you!” You say, puffing out your cheeks and clenching your fists around the frying pan.

  
He doesn’t speak, but the shades glint in a way that you can’t help but notice, even while you’re hiding in the shadows. Mustering up all your strength, you take a bold step out of the shadows, showing yourself to the intruder. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you, but his head lolls to the side just slightly and you pout at him.

  
“So that’s where my rabbit went.” He looks you over briefly, “What, based on the dress I can assume you’re Alice?” He asks. How does he manage to have that deadpan when he’s tressed up to a chair?

  
“No, I’m Jane.” You reply, still clutching the pan. Little Seb makes a slight beeping noise, and reaches up to tilt your dusty fedora at a jaunty angle. Whispering a ‘thank you,’ you return to threatening this rapscallion. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”

  
“I know not who you are, but can I just say,” He looks around dramatically, before returning to face you. “You never answered my question, how much to dye my tips.” He waits for a snicker that you’re obviously not going to give before he speaks again. “The name’s Strider. Dirk Strider.”

  
“Listen here Dirk Strider-”

  
“How many weeks did it take you to dye this? You’re clearly not a natural blonde, and honestly the blonde and your eyes make this real surreal fake aura that’s getting under my skin-”

  
“Would you shut your cake hole buster!” You poof your cheeks out and brandish the frying pan. “Who else knows my location?” You ask, still upset and bringing the frying pan close to Dirk’s face. You only just now notice the stubble, tiny tracks of blonde on his chin that stirs something inside you, curse him for knowing facial hair is your weakness.

He still seems to ignore your demands. “Listen here lettuce, first you steal my rabbit, and then you knock me unconscious, and now-” His deadpan stops for a brief moment, and his hands pat against the chair arm rests worriedly. “Where the hell did my satchel go?”

  
“I’ve hidden it. Somewhere you’ll never be able to find it Strider.”

  
He looks you over again, it was a mistake to let him keep the glasses, you can’t see his eyes for lord’s sake. “It’s in that pot over there isn’t it.” He states, smug superiority until you hit him over the head with the pan again.

 

 _=== >_  
_Dirk: Nurse this massive fucking headache_  
_=== >_

When you come to, the blonde menace is still standing in front of you, at least your robot had the decency not to wake you up with a heart attack this time. You remember when it ran off, but really? It ends up here? With some blonde haired blue eyed threat with a frying pan? You do have to admit, she looks steeled, calm and put together for seeing--what you can assume--is the first person other than her family ever. She’s probably got a single parent, overprotective as hell based on the tower and the bangles on her wrists, the damn things look more like shackles to you. Probably a mother, so many cakes and sweets you can feel your teeth rotting out of your head just looking at all the cake mixes.  
But you stop playing detective’s watson, picking up inconsequential obvious facts, and move to let Jane know you’re awake.

  
“Now you’ll never find it!” She says certainly, and you would much rather keep your skull in one piece so you don’t say anything. “What do you want with my hair? To cut it? Sell it?” She asks, leaning in close to your face. You can’t help but raise your eyebrows above your shades, not at her fake mustache and silly fedora, but at her notion.

  
“Listen, all I want to do with your hair is get out of it. Literally, and metaphorically.” You writhe briefly in her bonds, displaying exactly what you mean.

  
“Y-Wait what?” She leans back, lowering the concussion-giver-300 and adjusting her rounded glasses. They’re rimmed at the bottom, ovals that help accentuate her round little cheeks and circular face.

  
“Why would I want your hair? I mean I’m not into making wigs, and hell if I need it, mine’s fine the way it is. I was being chased, I saw a tower, I climbed it. That’s it. Capiche?”

“You’re telling the truth?” She questions, rubbing her fake mustache. Alright, that’s actually kinda cute.

  
“Swear on my smuppets.”

  
“Your what?” Her eyebrows knit, and you just hold onto your straight face to keep yourself from smirking. Luckily your bot on her shoulder confirms, and she seems to converse with it for a few moments. You hear her call it Li’l Seb, and your brows dance for a brief moment. So she renamed it. Well, not like you really named it.

  
“I got one question for you though.” You say, thrusting your chin towards their private conference. “Why are you wearing a fake mustache?”

  
“Now buster, that’s none of your business!” She stammers quickly, and you drop the tiniest, chillest, most minute smirk.

“Alright, I’m ready to offer you a deal Mister Strider.” She says, taking off her fedora-mustache combo and setting it down on the bannister. She reaches over, and Jane picks up a plate, a rather mangled mess of cake and icing, smashed with a cutter. Instead of feeding it to you, she points to a spot where the icing remains unperturbed. “Do you know what these are?” They’re floating lights, from what you can tell, a few are cylinders or squares.

  
“Aren’t those the lanterns they release for the princess?” You say, scrutinizing the cake art.

  
“Lanterns,” Her voice goes quiet just briefly. “I knew they weren’t stars…” She puts the cake down, and you take the moment to trace your eyes along the blonde tracks of her hair, the damn stuff seems to be everywhere, on the floor, wrapped around a support beam, tying you up… Why are you being tied up so much? This is shaping up to be a big day, though not the kind you want. She speaks again, and her plump lips curl in as if she’s unsure of actually going through with what she’s thinking. “I have, a proposition…

“Tomorrow, when the night sky fills with lanterns I’ll be there to see them. Because _you’re_ going to take me to see them. You’ll be my guide, and then and only then will I return your satchel to you. That’s my deal.” She says, tucking the frying pan under her arm, and running her hands through the long drapes of hair that fall down her shoulders.  
“Yeah, no can do.” You reply, shaking your head. “The kingdom and I are on some bad terms at the moment.”

  
“No, something brought you here Dirk Strider.” Jane says, pulling her hands out of her hair, and returning her grip to the frying pan. She presses the edge against your neck, and her black eyebrows tilt down in an angry snarl, offset with the gentle pink of her lips and cheeks. You should feel unafraid, she’s a girl who looks a year younger than you, maybe a few, but you feel like if things get any more pear shaped you’ll be in trouble. “Call it what you will; destiny, fate,” She traces the pan against your adam's apple, and then your chin, and it makes weird sounds against your stubble.

  
“An angry horse that smokes six packs of Marlboros a second,” You retort.

  
“But I have made the decision to trust you.” She says, leaning closer to your face, pulling the pan away. She softens, her face and expression delicate, really trusting. But you can’t show it yourself, you have to stay cool.  
“A terrible decision really.”

  
“Listen here you mook, you can tear this tower apart, brick by brick, and you will never find what you’re looking for.” Her face hardens again, and a single phrase comes to mind. She seems both soft and trusting, but betrayed and hardened. She’s a fullmetal sweetheart.

“Alright, you want me to take you to see the lanterns, and then bring you right back, correct? Then you’ll give me my bag back?” You question.

  
“I swear on it.” She replies, and for some strange reason you actually trust her. But you can’t let her know. Your facade stays in place, and she speaks again. “And when I make a promise, I don’t ever break it Dirk.”

  
“Alright, I won’t subject you to me trying to woo you, god knows you’ll break my skull open with that damn pan of yours, so fine.” You say, feeling something prick in your heart, some cosmic god taking a shit on your future, but you go with it. She unties you eventually, she’s practically glowing with glee, and when you move to grab the worn arrows and start the climb down, her arm wraps around your waist.

  
“Woahwoah-” You start, until she starts running towards the window “-Jane what the fuck are you doing-!?” She doesn’t stop, she’s strong, and she’s dead set on jumping onto the windowsill and out the window. The two of you are falling, and suddenly she moves. It’s so quick you can barely see it, but she whips her hair up, and it catches on a hook that’s sticking out from the underside of the roof. And just like that, the two of you are suddenly sliding down her hair to the ground, no more plummeting, no more rebellious cheers coming from your savior. In fact, the girl is grinning like a cat that’s got it’s milk, a proud and exhilarated grin of pure excitement.

When you’re close enough to the ground, you wiggle out from her grip, and fall to land on your feet. She slides down after you, and stops just before touching the ground. “Come on Lettuce,” You tease, combing your fingers through your hair for a moment and wiping off the top of your boots. Jane looks intently at the grass, before hesitantly stepping down, one careful foot after the other. It’s almost like a deer stepping on a frozen lake for the first time, and she manages to entertain you for a few moments. But as your time ticks down, you flick her arm.

  
“You coming or what? I know a good place for lunch.” You say. You hate to do it, but honestly? Rebellious road trip was the last thing on your checklist. If you can scare her out of this whole deal, quick return of your treasure, and about eighty less feet of bottle blonde hair to deal with.

  
She nods, and starts pulling up armfuls of hair before trudging along after you.

 _=== >_  
_Mother Condesce: Punch a nosy horse_  
_=== >_

You try to, but the grey horse manages to duck before you can connect. It’s sniffing around, looking for someone. You weren’t expecting it, and it nearly gives you a heart attack. “A palace horse,” You say, hand on your chest, regulating your breathing. “Where’s your rider?” You ask, before the thought dawns on you.

  
“JANE.”

  
And as quick as you can, you’re running back the way you came. So many what if’s are floating through your mind, and bad thoughts dredge through every free space. When you make it back to the tower, you throw your trident to stick it in a nearby rock, before looking up to the window. “Jane!” you yell, “Janey! Let down your hair!”

  
You count the seconds, she doesn’t answer. You don’t see the candles lit up on the windowsill, you can’t hear her singing or baking. And you do what makes sense. You pick your trident back out of the rock, and smash it into the base of the tower. The bricks crumble and fall out of place, a shoddy hole just big enough for you to climb into. You do, running up the long abandoned stairs two at a time, to the top. You wrestle a panel up, access granted again to the main room, in all it’s emptiness. Turning and spinning, your fears are confirmed. Jane is gone.

  
But something catches your eye. In you mad dash into the room, a nearby floor panel was uprooted. Inside the dead space is a brown bag, heavy in your grasp. Opening it, you come face to face with a sparkling tiara, a headpiece that has your stomach doing somersaults. Alongside it, is a wanted posted of a Strider, with stupid looking glasses. And with an angry hiss, you take your trident back in your hand, before descending the stairs.

 

 _=== >_  
_Dirk: Take Jane to Clown Town_  
_=== >_

You do in fact do that, you lead your new little friend to the front of the restaurant known as ‘Clown Town’.

  
Restaurant is putting it nicely, you know it’s an absolute shitshow run by a crazed clown and his mime brother. It’s violent, dark, smelly, and generally a pimple on the face of good society.

  
“This is the most high class place I’ve ever set foot in. Watch out, you might be a bit underdressed, but you should feel right at home. Quaint, quiet, nice. Don’t want you getting scared and going back, now do we.” You say, adjusting your glasses in what would be your equivalent of a mischievous grin.

  
“Well, I guess it can’t be too bad,” Jane replies stubbornly. You cross your fingers she’ll just drop her detective facade and return to the tower, and you can get your tiara back. Well, not your tiara per say, but you just want the money that comes with the damn thing. All the empty space and the money to buy whatever merch and robotics parts your heart could want.

So with an exceptional amount of gusto, you swing the bar door open. “Your finest table Garcon!” You yell, disrupting the dull roar of sweaty men and man smell.

  
Jane gasps, and you can’t help but crack the tiniest smile. Score.

  
“You smell that? Really let it seep in.” You continue, one arm on Jane’s waist and the other leading her towards a table. She squeaks, and her arms are clutching her hair tight, aside from a few stray yards that tumble from her grasp.

  
“Ah! Dirk!” She yelps, Li’l Seb curling up defensively on her shoulder. The girl is worried, eyes darting back and forth, and something in your heart retches like you made a mistake. But you push it back. Now isn’t the time to suddenly turn into some prince.

  
The thugs in the bar watch you both, a few taking steps toward you, a big hulking one with a broken viking helmet sticks out, so does the short one jumping down from his shoulder, she looks like she’s wearing dead cats for christ’s sake. The whole place reeks of danger and generally the color brown.

“It’s part bad smell, part man smell, over all it just smells like, well, a smelly smell.” You say, until Jane stops dead in her tracks. You turn, to see one of the thugs running her long thin hands through a section of Jane’s hair, but she’s clearly pretty enthralled. “A lot of hair, I know. She says it’s natural but I know that’s a crock of shit,” you joke.

  
The woman looks up, what you think is a cigarette dangling from her lips. She speaks in some foreign language, before looking up at you and glaring. She speaks again, and you turn away. Suddenly her hand is on your shoulder, and another is on your other shoulder.

  
“Now now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves-” you start, pushing away from them and leading Jane further away from the door. “Listen Jane, this is the highest of the high, this is a real five star joint here. If you can’t man up about-” And suddenly there’s a hand around your throat and you’re getting hefted up by that guy with the broken horned hat from earlier. You make a rather ungracious choke, and get manhandled into being stretched out like a two dollar woman of the night.

  
Jane squeals something, and the vaguely asian woman yells in a language you can’t understand. It isn’t until a tall as hell guy lumbers out from behind the bar, clown face paint and hair that looks like a bird’s nest in a tornado. He unfolds a piece of paper, and you don’t even need to see it to know what’s on it. When the clown speaks, it’s unsettling, like it’s both too high and too low compared to what you were expecting.

  
“It looks like the right motherfucker,” He says, eyelids drooping like it takes real conscience effort to stay standing. Now that you notice, the freak sways a bit on his feet too. He’s got the grunge right with the motif of the restaurant, he looks like the bottom of his sweatpants are caked in dried blood, and his shirt practically smells from this far away. Jane’s started yelling now, but you’re trying to keep your pants on, you don’t like the way mister big lug has his hand on the back of your belt. Honing your hearing you hear Jane pound against the giant guys back, and it’s got the dude sweating but for some reason you doubt it’s actually her hurting him.

“Go find some guards ghost sis, I’m gonna buy me a new motherfuckin’ horn hand.” The clown says, and only then do you notice he’s actually got an amputated hand, his left hand is a hook, verging on a sickle. A short round girl with tons of curly hair and ghostly facepaint nods, and skitters off.

  
“Eq an’ I could use the money.” The pelt thug mumbles, she’s got a cleft lip and you don’t like the way she’s got her hands practically shuffling through your pockets without even touching them.

  
“What about me? I’m broke.” Another rumbles. The men and women’s voices raise, and just barely in the undercurrent you can hear Jane.

  
“Stop! P-Please! He’s my guide!” Nobody is really paying attention to her, they’re bickering and yelling. You just pulled and tugged, you yell ‘Not the Shades’ but again, nobody is really paying attention, at least not until another clown looking monstrosity practically unfolds from the dark doorway behind the bar. Everyone goes dead silent, and you can’t help but marvel, the dude’s got his lips stitched together, and skull like facepaint. He looks a lot like the clown, it makes sense since they’re the brothers that run this joint from what you remember.

  
“Gentleman, ladies, we can work this out,” you say in your trusty deadpan.

Everyone looks briefly at you before back to the mime. He doesn’t look too happy.

His hands start moving, he’s using sign language and everybody seems to get the message aside from you. The clown murmurs something in reply, and suddenly the mime fucks back off into the darkness. The clown just smiles, and you feel a great need to try and worm your way out of the shit you waded into. Everything is silent, and you’re suddenly very afraid that you’re not going to be turned in for a reward, you may not even see the sun again.

Or at least, it is silent until an effeminate voice rings out. It’s a loud yell, practically a bellow compared to the squeals you hear her yell earlier. “Stop it this instant you ruffians!!”

Everybody turns to look at her, clown face mcpoofy pants turning slowly.

“Okay, just listen! I don’t know where I am, and I need him-” She juts her tubby little arm out to point at you, and your eyebrows raise the tiniest bit. She’s staring down essentially the head of a gang, and she’s still as determined as ever. She should be afraid, she should be running and crying back home to Betty Crocker Mama. But she isn’t. “-to take me to go see the lanterns! The lanterns I’ve been waiting my entire life to see!” Her bangles jangle, and she throws her arms up before throwing them back down like an actress.

The clown hasn’t really moved, his shoulders have kept rising, although if you notice it doesn’t look like Jane has. “Haven’t you ever had a dream?” You hear her voice nearly break, she means it, there’s that real emotion again. If you could express emotions like a normal human being, you’d probably hug the girl. But instead, you watch as you hook handed host withdraws a juggling club from the wall mount, and lumbers toward little miss detective. She doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t scream, she just stands up even straighter.

  
It’s comical, how the hunched over clown still towers over Jane, the girl who’s standing practically up on her tiptoes. Or at least it would be, if your stomach was threatening to overthrow your nonexistent breakfast. You honestly don’t want to see her get hurt, you’ll never get your hands on your treasure again. That’s the only reason. Don’t listen to your heart, what does the damn thing know anyway. The piece of shit muscle even stops when Jane is practically nose to chin with the clown, that look of avid determination burning in her eyes, frying pan clutched at her side ready to swing at a moment’s notice. The clown’s eyes are burning red with rage, he’s shaking and

“I had a dream once.” The clown suddenly goes, voice floating up and juggling pin tossed into the wall behind the counter. “I wanted to be a clown, motherfucker. Wanted to make everybody up’n laugh, nice big smiles on every motherfuckin’ face in the world.” He raises the hook hand, the point caresses Jane’s round cheek, and you’re waiting for him to break skin, begging him too. It isn’t until he takes a step back do you relax, because he draws three juggling balls from his sweatpants. Tossing them into the air, he manages to actually to bounce two off the hook, and slice the third in half.

  
Jane giggles, and the clown lights up. It’s like a switch gets flicked, and he somehow picks up even more from his other pocket, and those actually get bunted off the hook to form a silly half juggle. Jane smiles and laughs, and a few of the patrons drop a few snickers. Pretty soon--with the help of a banana cream pie and a fake trout--you’re hung up like a coat and Jane is dancing with the clown, that giant broken hat thug tittering away on the piano. The pelted thug is talking through a problem between two thugs, she wants to be a therapist. The asian woman is playing darts, laughing and grinning alongside a few other thugs. It’s almost like admitting that everyone has a dream somehow made everything made sense. People are laughing, and it isn’t until someone hefts you down from your perch do you pay attention.

  
“What’s your dream?”

  
“I’m not gonna sing, if that’s what you’re asking.” And the various blades and claws pointed at you suggest otherwise. You’re standing on one of the barstools. “I’m on an island I own, tanned, well rested, and alone. Preferably surrounded by enormous piles of money.” You finish, you voice raising. Everybody seems to get a good snicker out of it, and Jane comes bounding up, reaching up towards you. You extended your hand down to help the shorty, and guide her up so she’s standing on the actual bar now.

  
“I’ve got a dream!” She sings, getting the clown--Gamzee, Jane tells you when you point at him and his dopey smile-- to clap his hand over someone’s shoulder. “I’ve got a dream, I just want to see the floating lanterns gleam! To light up the sky, to feel like I’m somewhere I belong!” She cheers. You can’t help but watch, she glows in the light, hair shimmering and eyes alit with the light of life. Her attempts at singing are earning various grunts and toasts, and she manages to jump down from the bar, straight into Gamzee’s arms before you walk over and take you tiny ticket to paradise.

  
You’re about to set her down and take down Equius in an arm wrestling match when the round girl with the ghostly face paint from earlier busts through the front door of the pub.

“We gotta go!” You yell to her, gripping her tighter in your arms and diving behind the bar. Her hair trails out, but the pelted thug--she quickly introduces herself as Nep--runs by, handing over a full armful of blonde hair just as the bar door is opened with a slam. She stands slowly, carefully grabbing a glass on the counter and breaking it as silently as possible, grabbing shards in her hand.

  
The whole room is silent, and even though you don’t even know who the ghostly girl is, you can feel the dozens of eyes boring down on her. Some chairs awkwardly shuffle on the wood floor, a few weapons are pulled from decorative wall mounts.

The captain of the royal guard yells, and nobody speaks. “Where is he? Where’s Strider?!” He scans the room, you can catch just about everything from the various wine bottles situated against the wall. He pushes patrons aside, and keeps yelling for you. “I know he’s in here somewhere!” Nep walks out from behind the counter, ‘accidentally’ knocking over a bottle that requires Gamzee to come and clean up. The guards move towards the back of the room, your clown kneeling beside you. His eyes gesture towards the wall, before he flicks a switch and a door drops open, revealing a secret passageway.

  
“Go motherfucker, live your dream.”

  
“Thanks, I will.” You reply, when the blunt end of a hook pushes you into the opening.

  
“Your dream stinks. I was talking to the li’l mama.” Gamzee replies, when Jane leans down to press a peck to his cheek.

  
“Thank you for everything.” Her voice is quiet and gentle, but you take her hand and lead her deeper into the cavernous opening.

 

 _=== >_  
_Mother Condesce: Break the thieves out of prison holding_  
_=== >_

With a few quick stabs, the two girls are unguarded and two lithe swings make them unchained as well.  
“What do you want, you here to kill us yourshellf?” The blonde asks, and you can’t help but grin.

  
“I like your style, not too frond of the hair but I dig your style.” You reply, pulling down the hood of your cape. She stands a little straighter, and brushes off the front of her cut shirt. The dark haired one rolls her eyes, but you don’t really care. “Now gills, I got a proposition for you.” You say, leading them slightly away from the restaurant, dare you call it that.

“Listen bitch-” The dark haired one spouts, before you raise your trident at her.

  
“Maybe if you would stop floundering like wild eels, trying to swim up their own assholes, you could think for a moment.” Reaching behind you, you grab the satchel and unload it from your person. The two girls stand up straighter, and their shoulders rise. You think one is about to pull out a knife when you toss it to the reasonable one. She catches it, her chains jangling just slightly as she opens it and checks for the goods.

  
“Now if that’s all you desire, then be on your way. I was going to give you and opportunaty, something worth a thousand crowns, it dolphinately would have made you rich beyond your wildest bereefs,” You woe, turning dramatically and letting your cape catch a small breeze. “And that wasn’t even the best part, oh well,” You say, now slightly quieter. “C’est la reef. Enjoy your crown.” You don’t even have time to take one step before the obnoxious one speaks.

  
“What’s the best part?”

  
“It comes with revenge on Dirk Strider.” You smile, turning to meet eyes with the two women.

 

 _=== >_  
_Jane: Walk with Dirk_  
_=== >_

You’ve forgotten you’re still holding Dirk’s hand, and walking behind him as the tunnel you’re exiting leads to one of the abandoned quarries past the forest. Or at least that’s what Dirk tells you, he says it’s a quarry and a dam, what kind of tomfoolery is that. The sun eventually kisses your skin again, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Dirk is still here, and you’ve really gotten back. You’re going to see the floating lights. Your life is going to get better.

  
“I’ve gotta say, that back there was seven realms of impressive.” Dirk says, he doesn’t seem to notice that he’s still holding your hand.

  
“Thanks,” you reply, a smile dancing across your lips. You guess he has a point, but the men and women back there just needed a little kindness.

  
“Didn’t know you had it in you blondie.” He jests, before turning back to look at you. He’s smiling, it’s a kinda tiny and subtle smile, but his shades glint in a way that tells you his eyes are soft and happy like how Mother’s eyes can get on especially good days.You smile back, just as gentle. When the both of you look down at your hands, your smile brightens, and his disappears. He jerks his hand away and you let yours fall naturally. He rubs the back of his head, and opens his mouth to try and say something, but you laugh and gently push against his chest. He smiles again, you think you can see the barest hint of a real smile on his lips and Li’l Seb beeps happily, before jumping over to Dirk’s shoulder instead of yours. You take the chance to pull up your feet and feet of hair and drape it over your shoulders. Your frying pan supports the bottom of the pile, and you keep walking alongside Dirk.

“So, where are you from?” You ask, the three of you starting to walk again.

  
“Sorry, don’t do backstories.” Dirk replies, and you roll your eyes.

  
“Real smooth Strider.”

  
“I am becoming quickly enthralled with yours though Jane.” He says, adjusting his shades and gesturing to you. “I’ve learned not to ask about the hair,”

  
“Yep.” You reply.

  
“Or the mother.” He continues.

  
“Righto.” You confirm again.

  
“Frankly, I’m still kinda pissed about my rabbit.” He says, and Li’l Seb stands up on his shoulder as if shocked.

  
“I didn’t take him!” You say. “He ran to me!” You say defensively, squeezing your armfuls of hair.

  
“Here’s my big question though, my question to top all of my other questions, the best and most lemon scented of all of the questions I could ask, the t-”

  
“You’re rambling again.” You cut him off.

  
“If you want to see the lanterns so badly, why didn’t you go see them earlier?”

You’re about to answer when there’s a small breeze, a happy mishap of a leaf falling from the tree above you. It distracts you, and floats down to have you spin around and watch it. The leaf falls, but you stop following it when a flash of metal catches your attention. Soon, you realise it’s a helmet, a guard helmet.

  
“Dirk…” You say, one of your hands releasing your hair. It reaches to grab the Strider’s vest, and he’s about to respond when he sees the guard and horse attached to the helmet.

  
“Jane. We need to go. Now.” He says, his hand moving to grab yours. You lace your fingers into his, and you run, out into the world. The cool greens fade into the dulled browns of stone, the wood pathway leads you down, an isolated plateau, you’re just beside the dam too, the rows and rows of mined stone probably a hundred feet below you. You two stop, looking over at the exit, a tunnel dug into the opposite cliffside, and you’re about to start down the ladder when an adjacent boarded up tunnel breaks down.

Out comes two women, one blonde like you, with braids, the other with long dark hair. You think they both have glasses, but you can’t help but ask.

  
“Who are they?”

  
“They don’t like me.” Dirk replies, sharply intaking a breath. As if on cue, the guards nearly stampede down the path you just came out of.

  
“And them?”

  
“They don’t like me either.” Dirk replies, exasperatedly jerking his head to the side. When a grey horse pushes through the guard line, letting out a hard and hot breath, you don’t even have to ask.

  
“Let’s just assume, that everyone here, doesn’t like me!”

  
“I won’t in a second if you keep racking up enemies like a detective on the run!” You snap back. “Hold this!” You yell, smacking the boy in the stomach with your frying pan. With a hefty tug, you whip out your hair, wrapping the section around one of the dam support beams.

“Stay here!” You order, running off of the plateau and swinging over to another rock section. Dirk yells some profanity you can’t quite catch, and you hear a few loud thuds before looking back at him. There are a few bodies on the ground around Dirk’s feet, and you distract yourself for a moment by tying your hair around a low rock, creating a fulcrum for what you’re going to have to do. You’ve managed to look back just in time to see Dirk sword fighting; although he’s swordfighting with your frying pan, and although his opponent has a sword, they’re an angry horse. “You should know, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done!” He yells, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the horse. You would laugh, or stare, or shout back if the frying pan didn’t get knocked out of Dirk’s grasp, tumbling the hundred feet to the ground. So instead, you step forward, and sling the end of your hair around your partner’s palm.

  
“Time to go Strider!” You yell, pulling him off the edge. He gives the angry horse a parting salute, and free falls down the ravine. “Dirk! Watch out!” You shout to him, he’s gaining speed and getting closer to the two women now brandishing blades on the ground.

  
He swings down, characteristically silent and just before his heels turn to swiss cheese, you yank up on your hair, pulling him up above the two thieves. You think he’s about to yell down at them when he slams hard into one of the support beams on the faraway water transportation. You let out a little hiss, and clench your muscles.

  
“Don’t get hurt too bad!” You yell, cupping your hand to your mouth and throwing your voice to the fool. Kicking your hair off from the rock it’s wrapped around, you turn to look at the horse from earlier, now kicking down one of the major dam support beams. He’s furious, whinnying loudly and slamming his feet against the wooden beam.

Your heart is racing, beating hard inside your chest and your hands are shaking the smallest bit.

  
“Jane!” Dirk yells, pulling on the end of your hair from across the quarry. He’s standing now, water rushing down past his boots, shades on and reflecting light just perfectly to tell you how he’s feeling. “Come on! Jump!” He yells again, and you turn to see the horse finally knock the beam down, and run as fast as it can over the beam.

  
You look back to Dirk, your hair getting tugged gently again and your glasses glint, and you follow your heart. You take off, bare feet plodding against the stone and you take an amazing leap off the end of the plateau. The horse neighs angrily, and the click of his hooves echoes in your ears but you keep your eyes focused on Dirk and let yourself fall. You trust him. The air rushes past you, and you steel your determination as you let go close to the ground, skidding across a patch of dirty water. Dirk lets go of your hair and you pull it down, taking off at a sprint towards the tunnel.

  
There are loud thuds, screams of wood falling apart, and you can barely heart your own heartbeat, and the muscle feels like it’s about to explode. Looking back, wooden support beams and water paths are shattering and falling, Dirk riding on one of the sections until it comes crashing down, the Strider diving down and rolling along the ground. He jumps up just as you hear the thunderous boom, and you grab as much of you hair as you can while you’re running. You can hear the water flood, thousands of gallons of water ripping through the rock quarry.

  
Dirk is silent, but he picks up the trailing end of your curls, and runs alongside you, and neither of you can breathe. The giant rock structure is collapsing now, and the two of you just barely make it into the tunnel. Dirk stops for just a moment, reaching out to the trusty frying pan that managed to float the weakest water current just in front of the tunnel opening. Then everything goes dark, a thunderous slam shaking the entire tunnel around you.

You pause for just a moment, catching your breath, before Dirk pulls on your hair, drawing your attention back to your predicament. The water is still pouring into the passage, soaking the bottom of your dress as you run. Dirk is yelling, although you can’t hear him, your heart is thundering and you can’t hear anything above it.

Well, nothing except for the rush of water, it’s getting up to your knees, and as soon as you blink it’s at your waist. Dirk leads you as deep into the tunnel as you can get, and your hands press against the stone wall of no escape. The water is rushing in and the dark is suffocating you and you can’t breathe oh god it’s so hard to breathe, everything is spinning and the icy water burns your skin and when you think you’re going to cry you end up dry heaving. Dirk looks over at you, and the water crashes up over your shoulder before sinking back down, soaking Li’l Seb. You take the rabbit to push him up into a rock crevice in hopes of saving him, before just pulling it to your chest. Meanwhile, Dirk dives into the water, before coming back up for air. He does it again, and eventually he comes up coughing water, pulling himself as far up against the ceiling as he can, before sinking back down so the water rests at his chest. He’s breathing hard, but hell you are too so it doesn’t matter much.

When he manages to catch the breath you can’t, he looks over to you. His hands move and he’s saying something but you still can’t hear him. Eventually when one wet hand reaches up and caresses your cheek you briefly snap out of it.

  
“Jane.” He’s saying your name, he’s saying it again and again and it’s managing to calm you down. “Jane, look at me.” His shades are still on, and his hair is a blonde flopping mess on his forehead and face. “Jane repeat after me, one, two, seven, four, twelve.”

  
And you nearly smack him. Now isn’t the time for counting, but your lower functioning brain just does as he says.  
“One, t..two,” You choke on a breath for a moment. “One, two, seven, four, twelve.” You eventually rasp. And just like that, your mind clears. You can breathe again.

“Can you hear me?” He asks. Dirk’s voice echoes achingly in the cramped space.

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Alright. Good.”

  
“Let me try and-” you move to try and dive into the water, try and seek a way out. Or at least you do until Dirk’s strong hands grab you around the shoulders.

  
“Jane, don’t bother. It’s pitch black down there.” His hands are a little clammy, but he holds you.

  
“I’m so sorry Dirk, dear god I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for taking you out and I’m sorry for stealing your rabbit and I’m just sorry. Mother was right. I never should have left the tower.” You turn, burying your face in your shoulder. One of Dirk’s hands disappears for a moment.

  
“Hey, look at me.” You do look up, and his eyes scare you for a moment. They radiate light, a bright and piercing orange that you weren’t expecting. “Yeah, there’s a reason I wear the shades.” He smiles, an honest to god smile that has you speechless. “Thought I’d show somebody, before we go.” He looks so much better with a smile.

  
You laugh, and feel your chest rumble beneath the water line. “I have magic hair that glows when I sing.” You joke, looking back up at him.

 

 _=== >_  
_Dirk: What the fuck_  
_=== >_

You stare down at Jane, your face is shocked, blank, empty and confused if you could choose a few adjectives. Your confusion seems to tip something off for Jane though, and all of a sudden she starts singing. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine,” The water reaches up to your neck, but she doesn’t stop until the water floods over her mouth.

And then shit gets even weirder.

The dark water erupts in light. It pours from her scalp, her hair lighting up like a goddamn clapper, a clapper that shits out light when she sings.

You fucking lose it, letting an air bubble of shock flood out of your lips before your free hand smacks over your mouth. The light continues, streaming down her hair, every inch gleaming a bright glow. And following the hair with your eyes, you catch a small section pulled towards a gap in the stone. You dive down, pulling and ripping the stone out, a bigger gap forming and some of the water spouting out of your watery tomb. It isn’t until you shove more rocks through, your fist pushing through and eventually enough rocks pushed out for the pressure to build does an air bubble greet your thankful face. You gasp in a breath, before pushing the remaining rocks out of the way, for the water pressure to shoot you out of the opening, into what appears to be a large pond.

  
There’s two splashes, and before you know it you’re on the beach of the pond, nursing a cut up hand, and hacking up more water than you’ve ever had in your lungs before. Focusing your ears though, you notice an aching silence coming from Jane, until she begins hacking too. Thank christ.

  
“We did it!” She eventually breathes.

  
“Her hair glows.” You say, digging your hands into the dirt.

  
“Dirk.”

  
“Why does her hair glow?!” You yell, heaving a breath and picking up the wet and soggy body of Li’l Seb, dropping the frying pan into the dirt.

  
“Dirk!” Jane yells back, she pulls up on your jacket, making you look up at her. “It doesn’t _just_ glow.”

Thank god you can distract yourself from your emotions well enough to get a fire started. You make a little fire ring, find some kindling, and manage to keep any splinters out of your gashed hand. Jane sits on a rock closeby, and seems to start the momentous task of wringing out her hair. After a few shaky handed attempts, the fire starts, and you take off your teal vest to set it near the fire to dry. Your boots get the same treatment, and you think you can feel a pair of eyes boring into your back as you decide whether or not to take off the practically transparent fabric. It clings to your chest and back, and you feel a bit flattered until you turn around and see Jane busy taking apart Li’l Seb, seemingly completely engrossed. So you shrug your shoulders and take a seat beside on the other side of your robot. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she shoos your hands away like she does. It makes you snicker, because she’s way over her head but you wait until she gives a defeated sigh before your deft fingers open his thoracic compartment, pouring water out and retrieving the rubber coated main motherboards.

  
Jane watches, a little confused but mainly interested, and eventually you lay his main processors beside the fire, at least you in your sleep deprivation you thought to make most of his parts some kind of waterproof. His body will probably rust in the morning, but as long as the little carrot muncher can function he should be fine. Bodies can be replaced. Letting the superficial parts dry, you stick the little fella back together, and he beeps like the little trooper he is. He jumps up, before scuttling over to Jane and burying himself in a section of her hair, making you smile as you return to trying to rewire some waterlogged circuitry. You manage to focus yourself in your work until a stray wire catches in the gash of your hand, making you wince the slightest bit. And that draws the line apparently, Jane huffs and pulls you back to the wet rock and starts wrapping her golden hair around your hand.

  
“You’re being strangely cryptic as you wrap your magic hair around my injured hand.” You say, as straight as you can.

  
“Shoosh!” She reprimands, pulling hard and making you wince. “Sorry,” She immediately sighs. “Just don’t… don’t freak out.” She sighs again, and holds your hand between hers for a few seconds.

And then the weird shit alarm goes off again.

She’s singing, voice quiet and gentle until her eyes close and she doesn’t have to make eye contact with you. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine,” Her scalp glows, the familiar light bleeding down her hair, making you turn to watch it follow every inch strewn about your makeshift camp. When it eventually reaches where your rabbit is waiting, he only looks up at you and raises a paw before pointing at it. You do, you look down at your hand, as the light grows up to the part wrapped around your hand. And you just stare, as warmth floods over your wound.

  
“Heal what has been hurt, change the fate’s design, save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine.” Her voice dies off, and her glow stick hair finally dies down. “What once was mine.” She says weakly.

  
And as much as you’d like to pat her head, you unwrap your hand from her hair. And it takes everything you have not to flip your shit off the handle like you’re in the middle of a nasty divorce. Your mouth opens, but no sounds comes out.

  
“Please don’t freak out!” Jane yelps, hands up defensively.

  
You try to talk again and Jane murmurs another beg.

  
“Ahhhh I’m-not-freaking-out-are-you-freaking-out-no-” Your words string together and you speak like you’re trying to pull in a breath, “I’m-just-very-interested-in-your-hair-and-the-magical-qualities-it-possesses, how long has it been doing that exactly?” You ask, an awkward and foreign smile settling on your lips as you struggle to find a good place to put your magically healed hand.

  
“Ah, forever I suppose?” She smiles innocently but for some reason your hand is tingling and it feels weird and what the fuck is going on. “Mother says when I was a baby, people tried to cut it.” Jane goes quiet again in a way that makes your chest tighten and she reaches to the back of her neck, “They wanted it for themselves, to cut it.” Her hand pulls forward now, a shoulder length collection of hair, a deep black with the smallest cowlick on the end. “But once it’s cut, it turns black. It loses it’s power. A gift like that, it has to be protected.” She sighs, and rubs her arms. You hope she isn’t cold. “That’s why Mother never let me… It’s why I never…” She huffs angrily and buries her face in her hand and grumbles loudly.

  
“That’s why you never left that tower.” You finish for her.

  
She looks up at you, and nods meekly, before running her hands over the bangles on her wrists. The light of the fire illuminates her pale skin, and you can’t help but rub your darker freckle covered neck in embarrassment for noticing.  
“Well I knew you weren’t a natural blonde.” You tease, giving her a side eye.

  
“Dirk!!” Jane yells, leaning forward to gently pound her hand on your chest. Her bangles jangle in a way that almost makes you upset.

  
“I’m just saying, I told you before, the blonde doesn’t fit you and I think,” You say, reaching up to the still exposed short black length of hair, “this suits you a lot better.” You smile. Shit, what is this girl doing to you? You’re smiling, you’re display actual human emotions. Why does it sound appealing now? Her face dusts a pale pink and she smiles back brightly herself. “And you’re still gonna go back?” You ask, hand slipping down from her hair only for it to get caught up in hers, and pulled against her chest.

“I just- augh, I mean, yes! But No! And aghh, it’s complicated…” She breathes, letting go of your hand. “So orange eyes?” She asks, leaning closer to the fire with the light reflecting off her own glasses. You adjust yours--which are folded on your shirt--and rub your eyes.

  
“Yeah, I’ll spare you the sob story of little orphaned Dirk getting pushed around for liking girl’s stuff and having weird eyes. It’s totally unironically bad.”

  
“I want to hear about him.” She says gently, moving over on the rock and filling in the pace Li’l Sebastian once took.

  
“So ah, god…” You run your hands through your wet hair, pushing it back and smiling embarrassedly. “So for as long as I can remember, it’s been me and my kid brother.” Jane’s eyes widen for a moment, before she leans in more. “And we were raised by this, asshole of a brother, if you can even call him that. He was more like an idiot smashed into a container or irony, puppetry, and toxic masculinity he was-” Jane’s hand is one your shoulder, and you shudder into your next thought. It‘s strange how comforting her hand feels on your arm.

  
“And eventually I led my bro away. Get him out that hellole, you know? And he got sent off to some great rich family in the capital, I got shoved into some shitty orphanage. The shades were the last thing I had from my asshole relative, and the crushing sense of inferiority and toxic masculinity, but hey, what else is new.” You look over at Jane--her hand never left your shoulder, but her glasses are gone. “For a kid who had nothing, the shades, the irony, the stone poker face, I don’t know... I don’t know if they were forced on me, or… They just seemed better than nothing. Y’know?” She smiles softly, and dear god you want to run your hands through her seven mile long hair and just melt into her arms. “I can only hope Dave’s leading a better life than me.”

  
“Hey,” Her voice is quiet, and you almost want to lean in closer, the weakened crackling fire fill in the silence you’re leaving.

  
“You can’t tell anyone about this though, It could ruin my whole cool guy reputation.”

  
“Yes, yes, we wouldn’t want that.” Jane echoes, a coy smile on her lips.

  
“After all, a fake reputation is all a man has.” you elaborate, another real smile on your lips. There’s a few choruses of humming and ooohing and aahing, before you stand up, noticing a nippy chill dusting through and Jane shivering.

“Ahem, well, I should,” You pretend not to notice the way Jane’s leaning forward and looking up at you with the tiniest hint of drowsiness that has her eyes half lidded and mouth open the tiniest bit. “I should get more firewood.” Jane lets out a yawn, and nods, before taking off her glasses to set them beside your boots near the fire. You nod to yourself, and start on your way out when

“Hey,” She says again. You turn, and she smiles at you. “I like orange.”

She’s going to be the death of you.

“Well, you’d be the first… But, thank you.” You say seriously. And then taking a false dramatic bow, “Thank you indeed miss,”

  
“Never a problem sir Strider!” Jane replies just as jokingly, before waving you back to your work. And you do, you leave her to the fire and start your little trek through the nearby forestry, Sebastian following your footsteps.

 

 _=== >_  
_Jane: snap out of your little daydream._  
_=== >_

“Thank cod, I thought he’d never leave!” Mother’s voice rings out, nearly knocking you off of your rock, a mad dash to grab your glasses and turn to face her. She’s standing, tanned skin illuminated just enough to give her glasses the evil glare you’ve come to fear.

  
“Mother!

  
“Hello, Jane.” Her voice almost hurts you, the spite and betrayal that send chills down your spine.

  
“H-How did, I, I, I, I, How did- y-you find me?” The words won’t come out right, and it almost hurts to breathe.

  
“Oh it was easy, I listened for the sound of complete and utter betrayal and followed that.“ She snarks. Mother’s not using her puns. Mother always uses her fish puns.

  
“M-mother…”

  
“We’re going home. Now Jane.” She continues, stepping closer to you. You stand, and step back though.  
“You, you don’t understand! I’ve been on an incredible journey, and I’ve learned so much, I’ve seen so many things,” You’re not sure if you’re going to go on until your tongue betrays you. “I’ve even met someone.”

  
“Ah yes, the wanted thief, I’m so proud.” She snaps. She reaches out for you again and you push her hand away.

  
“Mother, It think… I think he likes me.” You say, straightening your back in a vain attempt to meet her eye to eye.

“Likes you? Please, Jane that’s just demented!” You sigh, but she continues. “You think he likes you? This entire situation just proves that you’re too naive to be here. Really, look at yourself, you’re so wide and unimpressive, lackluster. Don’t be an idiot Jane. It’s time to go.”

  
“No!” You yell, turning away from her to only turn back and let it all out.

  
“No?! Oh. I see how it is. Jane knows everything. Jane’s so mature now. Fine, if you’re so sure,” she growls, pulling the strap off your shoulder. You don’t even need to look inside to know what it is. It’s Dirk’s satchel. The reason Dirk is with you. The reason everything in the past few hours has happened. “Give him this!”

  
“How did you-”

  
“Trust me Jane, this is how fast he’ll leave you! Watch you’ll see!”

  
“I will!” You say, taking the bag from her claws. She snarls at you, black hair flying out in an unruly mess of anger.  
“Mother knows best, and don’t you dare come crawling to me when he breaks your little heart!” She roars, whipping her cape and taking back off the way she came. The fiery determination in your gut quickly vanishes, disappearing into guilt and fear, a mix that has your stomach threatening to upheave and knock you out like a light.

  
When you manage to look back down at the bag, you can’t do so for very long. You throw the damn bag into a shrub behind the rock, wishing you could forget where it is even though you know damn well you’d never be able to.  
When Dirk talks, you actually let out a scream.

  
“Jesus! Jane, you alright?” Dirk yells, dropping the kindling and rushing over to you. You’d be lying if you said his hands on your face weren’t a comfort. Mother never allowed you physical comfort, and now, Dirk is here and he’s prompting it, like he’s telling you the want for comfort is okay. And that’s not okay.

And to boot, when you meet eyes with him, everything comes crashing down from stress, to hunger, to fear, and you grab his white shirt with everything you have and cry. You just let it out, and Dirk throws a few sticks on the fire before picking you up, settling on the rock with you on his lap.

  
“It’s okay Jane, whatever I did, I’m sorry.” He holds you, and you can hear the hurt in his voice and that makes you hurt even more.

  
You shake your head. It takes a few minutes before you can breathe normally again, and when you do you can’t help but wiggle out of his grasp. “I’m sorry Dirk, I’m sorry for touching you and for crying.”

  
“Jane,” He says, pulling your attention back up. His hand gently pulls your chin up to look at him, and your chest pangs in an achingly familiar way. This never goes well. “It’s okay. I just want to make sure you’re alright.” He says gently, letting go of your chin and giving you free reign of your head again. You can’t think of a real way to respond, but your arms move to hold yourself. Li’l Seb moves up to nestle in your lap, and you hold him instead.

Dirk leans towards the fire, a brief moment of unusual calm before he speaks again. “You think I’m gonna get super strength in my hand?” He turns to look at you, a smug and knowingly smirk on his lips. “Because I’m not gonna lie, that would be stupendous.”

  
You laugh weakly, and wipe your eyes.

  
“I mean, superhuman good looks, born with’em.” Dirk leans back on the rock, back pressing against the stone and one leg bent to dig his sock clad heel into the rock too.

  
You laugh again, this time an ongoing one that seems content on staying around.

  
“I mean can you imagine? That would be amazing. I mean, it’s probably too early for them to manifest right now, but good things come to those who wait,” He continues.

You nod, and pretend not to notice the shuffling sound you hear in the bushes and trees behind you.


	2. Side B: Your name is Dirk Strider, and you're on one hell of a ride

_=== >_

_Jane: Wake up to Dirk’s screaming_

_=== >_

“N-no, no, no! Put me down you fleabag! Let me go!” He yells, and you shoot up from where you fell asleep, head spinning the smallest bit as your rush to your feet. Dirk is being dragged away from you, hands digging into the grass as you start taking off after him, but you can’t tell much more without your glasses. Briefly tripping over your hair, you run over and grab Dirk by the hands. You tug, pulling on your partner and fighting what you now realize as that grey horse from yesterday. He’s digging his teeth pretty nastily into Dirk’s sock, but you’re not about to give up your only friend.

“Let go of him!!” You pull hard on Dirk’s arms, and eventually rip him from the horse’s teeth, sacrificing his sock to the angry fellow. He runs up though, just as you help yourself back to your feet, and the horse seems to be sweating in rage.

“Woah, whoa whoa whoa whoa! Easy! Easy! Easy boy!” He seems taken aback by your shooshing, but after another minute or two he does calm down. “Easy boy, that’s it.” You smile, and the horse manages to actually sit down like a dog, and you can’t help but chortle a little. Dirk sounds like he’s putting his shades and vest back on, and you remember the horse still has one of his socks.

“I’m going to need you to drop the sock fella.” His red eyes go momentarily wide, and you think he’s about to snarl at you when your finger points down at the ground. “Drop the sock!”

 

After a few seconds and more than one reprimand, he does drop it.

“Aww, what a good boy!” You cheer, walking over and extending your hand. He looks at it, but quickly wags his tail and nuzzles your palm. You take the chance to rub his snout and black mane excitedly, you’ve never met a horse before! “You’re probably tired from chasing this bad man all over the place, aren’t you?” You ask, leaning down. The fella nods, and you purse your lips.

“What?!” Dirk shouts.

“Nobody appreciates you, do they?” The horse shakes his head and lets out an annoyed huff. “Do they?” He does the same thing again, and Dirk interrupts your feelings jam.

“Oh come on! He’s a bad horse!”

“Oh, he’s nothing but a big sweetheart!” You look back at Dirk and tease him, before returning your attention the the horse whose ears are getting skritched in a way that nearly has him purring. “Isn’t that right,” You lean down, squinting hard at the breastplate on the horse’s chest, “Karkat?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dirk whines. Karkat neighs angrily at Dirk, and you keep running your hands through his black mane.

“Listen Karkat,” you pull the horse’s attention up from staring down Dirk and you hold his jaw gently in your hands. “Today is really the biggest day of my life, and the thing is,” you lean in, “I need you not to get him arrested.”

Karkat grunts, and stomps his hoof toward Dirk as if trying to prompt Dirk into a fight.

 

“Listen, please Karkat, just for twenty four hours. Then you can chase one another to your heart’s content, is that alright?” Your eyes well up, and your shoulders curl in on yourself to bleed pity. And eventually it works, Karkat letting out another angry neigh but nodding his head. And you’re about to chastise the boys further when distant bells ring, pulling your attention away from the horse and the Strider.

 

_=== >_

_Dirk: Punch a horse_

_=== >_

While it was once firmly against your beliefs, you give Karkat the grump a nice deck in his horse shoulder. It’s not your fault he does the same back to you. The damn thing he- augh he just won’t listen to you! It isn’t your fault the both of you end up fighting every time you’re close!

Alright so what if it is, the equine is all high and mighty and it’s not right.

But when Jane takes off towards a dirt path Karkat can take the back seat of your attention. She’s nearly running, skipping and joyfully falling until you hand her her glasses, and then she’s in even more of a hurry that has the tiniest smile on your lips. You take a few seconds to rake your hands through your hair, scrounging up the tiniest amount of styling thanks to a tiny bottle you left in your vest.

Today is going to be possibly the biggest day of this girl’s life, and you have to keep yourself from getting arrested. Time to be as cool as you can.

 

When your party makes it to the bridge leading into the capital, everything almost seems to go rosy through your black shades. Jane’s standing on her tiptoes every moment she can, straining to see everything there is and the second it’s happening. She gets almost to the end of the bridge when you notice a wanted poster on the wall of the bridge, one you hastily tear down and crumple up. When you turn, Karkat is looking over your shoulder, and you take the moment to shove the balled paper in his mouth. He takes it for a few seconds, before he spits the stupid paper back and directly onto your face.

For a few seconds you try the flyer off your face before you finally succeed. Pulling back your arm you gear up to throwdown with the damn horse, you’re interrupted Li’l Seb’s disapproving glares and gestures at you both. He’s sitting on top of Jane’s head, the smug bastard. And with a grumpy sigh you fold your arms and keep following Jane into the city. It’s bigger than you remember--maybe due to the brain damage from yesterday--but it must seem enormous to Jane, she’s standing dead in the middle of the foot traffic, staring up at the little green lifey symbols that decorate the flags in honor of the missing princess’ birthday. It is the festival after all, it makes sense the beige and green flags and trinkets are everywhere.

She gets startled by a passing cart though, and jumps back and into somebody else, and then it’s a chain reaction until she’s hunched over picking up her hair embarrassedly. It’s a mess, and she’s got a little under half in her arms when you manage to pick up most of what else is left. Looking around, you know what you’re trying to find, and there they are, three little girls sitting on the fountain ledge making a line of braiding each other’s hair. When you whistle, the short haired one in the back looks over, and then all three gasp excitedly. Raising your arms and smiling, the three are tripping over themselves to get a chance at braiding Jane’s hair.

They do, skipping and jumping around, tying up and styling the eighty feet of blonde hair. You leave them to their business, leaning against a wall until guard armour glints in your peripheral and you duck down until they pass. When the girls, you stand and Jane’s got all her hair braided in a neat and beautiful braid, the girls even managed to thread in flowers to make her look even more magical.

 

Jane smiles up at you, and you can’t help but smile back. She looks like some kind of life goddess with all the flowers around her. One just beside her left eye is the same crystal blue, and with a little dexterity you snag it from her. There’s no fight, just a little round blue flower decorating your lapel and one of the girls gives you a thumbs up. (You return the gesture). Everything seems to be going swimmingly, you mean aside from the hiding from royal authorities (At one point it’s not too bad, you have to take Jane down behind a bush and you get a chance to bury your nose in the crook of her neck and she giggles silently). Everything bleeds into a joyful blur, you buy Jane a little flag with the lifey symbol, the two of you get a few sweet rolls from a kind baker, and Jane skips in the main center of the bustling town square. She helps an unknowing new chef flavor a soup, plays around with a few kids, hell she seems to have the loving cinnamon roll act down. Every second is packed with excitement and her happy smile, and soon it’s afternoon, then close to sundown. Jane still leads you around, eventually winding up just north of the fountain, a tall indented wall decorated with a mosaic.

It’s the king and queen you realize, a small baby girl in their arms. Familiar blue eyes peer down, and flowing blonde hair, and you look down at Jane. She’s stopped smiling, confusion and intrigue settle on her hunched shoulders, but it doesn’t stay for long until she sways her long ass ponytail and takes off back towards the more empty main area.

You follow, one arm resting on Karkat’s back as she takes a little boy’s arm, and swings him around in a kind of square dance. He laughs, and she does too, and a few dudes come out from a nearby shop with a few instruments, and soon they’re a band. Jane is swinging around, calling to passersby and dancing, getting the whole square alit with her excitement. Her glasses flash and shine and her overbite shows clear as day when she gestures you into the dancing rhythm too.

You shake your head, she must be joking, but the horse quickly shoving you into the festivities shows you she means business. You smile, tripping into a dance with a short guy, swaying and tapping your feet as you meet eyes with Jane, who smiles fondly and mouths an apology as she keeps dancing with the guy she’s with, spinning away before you can shake your head. Every time you pass it’s arms extended, hearts thrumming in beat with the jig the band is playing, every droplet of soon setting sun fueling your excitement and quickening the tempo of the musicians.

With a final powerful strum, you and Jane finally meet, breaths heaving and eyes locked on one another. She’s beautiful, skin flushed the barest pink, and hand holding yours like you’ll disappear the moment you let go. When the signals finally reach her brain though, she jolts back. She seems afraid of physical contact, and you get the signal, stepping back to make her more comfortable. She smiles up at you, and tucks a loose lock of hair behind the leg of her glasses, and you’re suddenly very enamored with the other citizens.

One yells, and you follow his instruction. “To the boats!” The setting sun catches Jane’s hair and nearly blinds you, or at least distracts you until you manage to lead the girl to the docks. She cautiously enters the gondola and you follow. Your shades get removed, hung on your collar and Jane watches with what you can only guess is twee when you throw the bag of apples you procured earlier onto the dock for the angry horse you have to leave on the dock. He eyes the bag, and you laugh.

“I paid for them!” You start rowing away and wait until you hear Karkat eating them before you finish. “Most of them.”

Jane’s cheeks poof out and you shake your head.

 

It’s quiet while you row, the serenity of the water settling nicely in your chest. Jane doesn’t seem to calm down though, she actually seems to get more wound up.

“Where are we going?” She asks, turning to watch the building of the capital shrink and move as the both of you distance yourselves.

“Biggest damn day of your life, right?” You say, leaning up to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “You deserve a decent seat.” It takes a while, but you don’t complain. You reach a good distance, and kick your feet up to relax. Li’l Seb entertains you two for a while, and eventually Jane has taken to leaning over the edge of the boat, telling you a murder mystery story she remembers. It’s interesting, and got you tied up until her voice trails off.

“Alright little miss detective?” You ask, casually thumbing the flower petals pinned to your vest.

“I just… I’ve been looking out a window for my whole eighteen years. I’ve dreamt about what it might feel like when those lights do rise in the sky, and I’d be there to see them.”

“And?” You hide your emotions behind your trusty pokerface.

“Well, what if it’s not everything I dreamed it would be?” Her voice sounds hurt, broken and nervous in a way you’re less than willing to admit you understand.

“It will be.” You reply, kicking your feet down from the railing of the boat, sitting up properly. Jane turns, and smiles weakly.

“And what if it is, hmm mister Strider?” She teases. “What am I to do then?”

I“Well that’s the good part,” You reply, adjusting your sleeves and taking note of all the scuffs. When you look up, you meet Jane’s nervous gaze. “You get to find a new dream.”

 _Like I have. In you_ _._

Jane looks you over, before her steely resolve sets back in, and you think she moves to grab your hand before she suddenly rubs her eyes and nods. She returns to telling the story, and you bury yourself in listening and tracing each freckle and perfect imperfection on the flower petals.

Or at least the two of you do until Jane goes quiet again. Looking up from your flower, Jane is staring up at the castle and her nails are practically digging into the wood of the boat. When you turn, you can see why. The first lantern’s been released, a bright pink cupcake, burning with the hope of a loving family. And gradually, lanterns flood the night sky, lights burning tracks beyond the clouds.

Jane’s quiet, eyes locked on the sky, and her body shakes the littlest bit. When you reach into your vest, you can swear you can catch the tiniest tracks of tears streaming down her cheeks. When she finally manages to pry her attention away, you’ve got the paper lanterns lit, and yeah. Those are tears. She sits carefully, and her shoulders hunch up for a brief moment.

When she talks, her voice is so loud compared to the comfortable silence you’ve found yourselves in. “I have something for you too deary,” She reaches under the bench and pulls out the worn leather bag you once held above your very life. “I should have given it to you before, I’m dreadfully sorry, but I was scared… And,” she shifts the bag in her hands, and looks up at you. Her eyes pierce you to your very core, bright lights of future in a dark and depressing past. “Well I’m not scared anymore. You know what I mean?”

The lanterns get shifted to one of your hands, and the other pushes the bag down towards the floor of the boat.

“I’m starting to.”

Jane’s smile brings one to your face too, and with a gentle hand off, she has a lantern of her very own to send off. Leaning together, the both of you send the little paper mementos flying up, dancing and twirling in the air. The almost blend into the sea of lanterns in the sky, but as soon as yours is out of view, your eyes move back down to Jane. She’s still staring up at the sky, glasses alit with the glow of the world around you.

And for probably the first time in your life, you Dirk Strider, are really truly speechless. When she giggles softly your entire world shakes, and when her hands grab your shirt collar and pull you down to her slowly, you can just barely hold back the urge to lean in and let your eyes flutter shut. Your eyes stay open for a few seconds, and catch a flash on the beach of the forest side of the water. Focusing, you can make out the shape of two figures, and in just a second more you realize who exactly are on the water’s edge.

It’s Vriska and Meenah.

Your stomach does the most aching flip in your torso, and you rip back from Jane’s gentle grasp. You go practically flying--the back of your head makes an impressive thud connecting with the boat’s edge--and Jane shuffles back just as fast. Words aren’t computing, nothing's making sense, but you put on a good face pretending you have control.

“Dirk?” Jane’s voice is that painful kind of gentle, and you fumble to get your shades back on. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah… Y-Yeah, Jane, everything’s grand. I just, there’s something I need to take care of.” Your voice complies scratchily, and your hand grabs the paddle tucked in the vessel. She nods her head, and presses her fingers together as you row the two of you to shore. Your ‘accomplices’ have disappeared, but you have a sick feeling it won’t take you very long to find them.

“Everything’s fine Jane,” You reassure her, as you step out and pull the boat ashore. “Just, give me a few minutes.” She nods again, and smiles weakly at you.

“Yes, of course.”

“I’ll be right back.” With a quick movement, your hand grabs the satchel, and you take off inland.

 

You were right, not even fifteen feet behind the cover of trees are Vriska and Meenah, Meenah taking it upon herself to carve her initials into a tree while she waits. The knife comes out when she sees you though, and running a hand briefly across your neck you have a sinking feeling you know where the blade might end up next. Here’s hoping things don’t go pear shaped.

“Wooow,” your voice drags out, “I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere, man every second I’ve been away you’ve been my number one priority. So listen, I know I shouldn’t’ve split, so here. Act of goodwill. The crown’s yours. It’s best this way I’ll just-” The words come out faster than you would have liked. You throw the bag to Meenah. And before you can turn to escape Vriska manages to shove you back between them.

“Still holding out on us, huh Strider?” Vriska seethes.

“What?”

“We heard you found somefin much more valuable than a crown.” Meenah grumbles, stepping closer to you.

“We want her instead.” They both say, and your breath stops.

 

_=== >_

Jane: Get startled again

===>

There’s a loud crunch from onland, and you turn with a jolt. You can just barely see Dirk’s shadow, but you smile.

“I was beginning to think you scuttled off with the crown and left me, buster.” You jokingly reprimand. And then the shadow splits into two, and you stand. You hands shake the littlest bit.

“He did.” The dark haired woman sneers, as the blonde smiles and cracks her knuckles. 

“He wouldn’t.”

“Oh he did.” The blonde snickers, “Sea for yourshellf.” And although you don’t want to, your eyes turn portside and on the shadowy edge of the water, you can see another boat. And a half broken sob makes it’s way out of your lips, because an all too familiar silhouette stands steering the vessel. “Fair trade, don’t you think Vris?” The blonde smiles, taking a step into the boat and withdrawing a knife.

“Definitely, a crown for the girl with the magic hair.” ‘Vris’ replies, approaching from the side of the docked boat. “How much would somebody be willing to pay to stay young and healthy forever?” Her voice slithers up your spine in a way you can’t stand and suddenly there’s a hand on your wrist, and knife under your chin. But what hurts even more, is your eyes can’t move from the boat shadow cast along the water, your mind and body numb for the briefest of moments.

You… You cared for him… And what hurts even more is you still do. You hate him for betraying you, lying, but deep deep down you just want him to be happy. The hurt in his eyes was real, he couldn’t make that up. And you foolishly want him to screw off to some remote island and be happy. Even if it’s with someone else. Even if it isn’t with you.

 

When you mind starts working again, it’s a flash. You lean back and kick the side of the boat hard, rocking into the water with your heavier weight. The blonde woman adjusts her stance, yells and moves to cut you before you give her a solid punch to the nose, swinging your weight and her overboard. Vriska--The blonde yells to her-- snarls and jumps up to you, where you grab Li’l Seb and jump down, bringing your foot down hard on her ankle. She screams out for Meenah--you guess that’s the blonde’s name-- but you take your blessing as Vriska kneels in pain. You run, until your ponytail catches on a large tree trunk, bringing you down onto the ground with a harsh thud of bad luck. Your right lense cracks in the fall, and your head throbs as you try to stand, pulling and ripping at your hair desperate to just run until you don’t have to ever again.

And then there’s a hand on your shoulder. “Jane!” Mother’s voice yells, she’s out of breath too and you turn to her slowly. She’s hunched over where you’ve landed, and her eyes scan your face worriedly.

“Mother?” You voice breaks sadly, and she smiles weakly.

“Oh my goodness, my precious precious girl, are you hurt?” Her words run together the littlest bit and she helps you stand, adjusting your broken glasses and holding you tightly in her arms. You melt into her hold, but you don’t cry. No, you can’t. Not now. She talks to you more, and you nod or shake your head at the right times.

“H-how did you find me?” “I was so worried anemone, I- well I followed you. I saw them attack you and- come, come now. We need to get out of here before they come to.” Her voice is gentle and persuading, and you follow as she grabs your hand. You look down at your torn and dirtied blue dress, and the flowers and twigs littering your hair. You bit your lip. When she leads you up by the dock, your eyes catch on the shadow again.

“You were right mother.” You murmur, holding her hand tightly and trying to get your heart to slow down.

“I know darling,” she doesn’t sound like a know-it-all or even rude, she just sounds understanding. “I know.”

 

_=== >_

_Dirk: Come to with a solid thud and yells of orders_

_=== >_

You do just that, head jerking as your nurse this massive fucking headache you’ve gotten. Looking around, a single word escapes your lips. “Jane, Jane!” You yell, finally taking count of where you are. You’re tied up, body tressed up against a hard form, hand tied to the steering wheel, tiara interlaced. Then the nervous yelling clicks into your ringing ears, a hispanic looking guard is yelling to the other guard members.

“It’s, t-the crown!”

And without much more than a pause for thought, guards flood the pier and you can barely hear your yelling over the guard’s. You’ve cut out from where you stand, shoved and thrown between all the men and women. Some are less than understanding, others you’re surprised haven’t punched your teeth in.

“Listen- listen- please!” Your cries get silenced by--there it is--a fist to your mouth. You do not like the sea of wonder bread muscling in on you and tying your hands together. “Jane- Jane!” You give a final yell, before hunching in on yourself spitting blood from your busted lip onto the wood dock. The hispanic kid is given the crown and he runs off, he seems to have trouble going up the stairs but he does, and you follow-albeit against your will.

When you reach the top you see two familiar figures, your fight comes back. It’s Meenah and Vriska, how the hell did hey get caught? How long were you unconscious? “You bastards!” The two don’t notice you until you’ve ran forward, and burying your hands in Meenah’s ripped up shirt. “How the hell did you know about her?! How!?”

“It’s wasn’t us!” Meenah yells into your face. By now, the guards have started reacting and separating you two. “It was the old beach!”

“Old bitch… No! No no no! You don’t understand! She’s in trouble!” And eventually you can’t keep up the fighting, otherwise you’ll be dead before sunrise. A neigh sounds in the distance, an angry and worn out voice you wish you could reassure or rely on for help. But your head falls defeatedly. Your eyes glance at the blue flower pinned to your vest as a drop of blood falls down, staining the blue a deep red.

 

You have a very bad feeling.

 

_=== >_

_Jane: Attempt 2x quickswap COMBO_

_=== >_

When Mother takes the final flower out of your hair, you still can’t bring yourself to look up from your hands. You have a few splinters, some little scratches here and there. Even the bracelets she put on you an eternity ago are dirtied. Mother says you’re going to take a shower once she’s finished cleaning and brushing your hair. The brush runs through you aforementioned locks, slow and delicate.

“There. It never happened.” She says after a few minutes. “Now, you can go wash up. I’m going to make hazelnut soup for dinner.”

Your head stays low, but you nod, and your eyes move to trace the scratches and tears in your dress. The cyan fabric is torn and frayed, dirtied and stained from the time in the dam, from falling asleep next to the fire, from dancing in the town square. “I tried to warn you.” Mother’s voice rings.

“I told you, the world is dark and selfish and the moment it finds the tiniest light, it will destroy it.” Her voice returns to that mean and knowing tone you’ve grown to fear and she walks down the staircase back to the open kitchen.

 

When she’s finally gone, your hand snakes into the waistband of your dress, pulling out the flag He had bought you. It’s beige and green, the colors calming and relaxing as your fingers gently knead the fabric. But then, a thought strikes you. You stand from the bed, feet tender and aching from their own cuts as you look down into the kitchen. In every cake you’ve decorated, there’s been something close to this, the symbol itself niggles something hard and long forgotten deep down in your chest that makes it hard to breathe.

You stare, stepping back moving from your poor drawings to icings, to sugar sculptures and suddenly everything implodes. The world collapses into black, a single image bleeding to the surface of two blurry figures, holding each other close and peering down at you in a crib. The life symbol is hanging from a mobile, and it isn’t until you flashback to when He took you to the festival does it make sense. The two figures are the King and Queen from the mural, familiar mother air and the fatherly stern nose piercing the fog. You’re the small blonde child held in their arms, you’re the baby.

 

When you can blink everything back into place, your footing fails you, crumbling down onto the nightstand beside the bed. Little Sebastian beeps nervously and scurries under the bed as you fall even more. You take a few of the makeup and hair product bottles onto the floor as you collapse, holding yourself tightly and gasping breaths as everything floods you at once.

“Jane? Jane what the shell is goin on up there?” Mother yells, quickly making her way back up the stairs. When her shoes enter your vision you almost wrench. “I’m the missing princess.” You murmur.

“Janey Janey, I’ve told you aboat the mumbling! Stand up and talk to me!” Mother snaps. You do, pushing off from the ground hard and staring up at the woman.

“I’m the lost princess! Aren’t I?!” You yell, hand pressing against your chest. She’s dumbstruck, mouth open the slightest bit. “Did I mumble Mother? Or should I even call you that?” Your eyes are burning, rage and thinly veiled determination setting your body ablaze with passion.

“Jane, do you even her yourself? Why would you even suggest something this stupid?” The words come late, and Condesce seems nervous about speaking.

“It was you! It was all you!” You yell again, taking a step back and snarling at her. She snarls in return, shoulders rising and hands primed into claws. “Every single thing I did, I did to protect...you.” She growls. Her eyes dance off your hair before meeting yours and with a run, you manage to shove yourself against the Condesce. She hits the wall, but you continue down the stairs.

“I have spent my entire life, hiding from people who would use me for my power…”

“Jane! Listen to me now!” Condesce snaps.

“When really, I should have been hiding from you.” You say, reaching the bottom of the stairs. Turning, the Condesce is standing still on one of the steps, your hair a long track up the stairs beside her.

“Where will you go?” She chortles evilly, “He won’t be there for you!”

Your throat tightens in a way you pray isn’t obvious. “What did you do to Him?”

“That criminal will be hanged for his crimes.” She says factually. You gasp, and curl in on yourself just slightly, Condesce using the movement to mask her own. Suddenly she’s on the floor beside you. “Now listen, everything is happening as it should.” He hand reaches up to pat your hair.

And that’s when you snap for real.

 

“No! You were _wrong_ Condesce! You were wrong about the world, and you were wrong about _me_.” Your hands wraps around her wrist, hoping your nails dig into her skin. “And I will **never** let you use my hair again.” You finish, glasses sliding down the bridge of your nose. She writhes briefly in your grasp before you give another solid push, smashing her into the mirror and stumbling back a few feet. The glass shatters against the floor, and when Condesce stands up straight, it takes everything you have to keep yourself from backing down. She stomps over, grabbing you by the neck and lifting you into the air with one arm- a feat of strength you’ve never seen her display. The fear holds you tighter than her hand.

“You want me to be the bad guy? _Fine._ I’ll be the bad guy.”

 

_=== >_

_Dirk: Go for three_

_=== >_

When you’re thrown like a goddamn ragdoll into a prison cell there’s not much a guy can do. When you’re grabbed by the jaw and pulled out there’s not much you can do either. It’s a hideous divide between acting cool and composed, and fighting tooth and nail for any chance to get away and save Her.

They fix that though, shackles on top of shackles can do wonders to break the human spirit. A buff dude has got you by the arm on your left, a toned dude on your right, and your head falls. For just a glance you see something though, a horn set on a window ledge. It’s the same type Gamzee had, and your brain clunks along its train of thought until the door ahead of you slams shut. The long haired guy ahead of you starts sweating and runs up to start pulling on it. Buff and toned look at each other confused and you do your best to play it cool. Then the other doors swing shut, and Sweaty starts yelling.

“Open this door!”

 

“What’s the password?” A familiar feminine voice rings out, olive green eyes peering at Sweaty through a viewport.

“W-what?!”

“Not even close, dude.” The slit slides open and then closed again.

“Open this door!”

“Wrong again!” Again, the girl on the other side of the door must be having a damn good time with this.

“You have three seconds!” His hand hits against the wood hard and Buff looks away.

“Double nope!” She replies, port sliding shut.

“One!” Suddenly Toned disappears, pulled up into the ceiling with not even a yell.

“Two!” Buff looks back, about to yell to Sweaty when a glinted hook grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him into the hallway before the door shuts again. When Sweaty turns around to finally face you, you just give a little shrug, face as blank as ever. He’s about to say something when that tall ass mime from before slinks through the now open door and hits him over the head with a frying pan. He looks up at you after a moment.

“Frying pans! Who knew, right?” You smile mischievously, and he does for a second before rolling his eyes and jerking a thumb towards the way out. When even more guards come pouring out from the door behind you, you nod and take off following the mime. All the thugs so far are running behind you now too, and it’s almost enough to get you excited, that adrenaline junkie inside you relishing this. Equius manages to throw Nep hard, the girl bowling down a good half of the morons chasing you all. The two of them stay back and buy you more time.

When you make it to the open execution square, you don’t even question Gamzee, your chest is heaving and the sweat pouring off you almost sending your shades onto the ground. Gamzee lifts you up with his weird clown strength and sets you back down beside him.

“Head down.” Gamzee speaks, making the movement himself.

“Head down.” You follow.

“Arms in.”

“Arms in.” You pull in your appendages.

“Knees apart.” Gamzee dips in height, and you follow.

“Knees apart. Wait, knees apart? Why do I need my knees apart-” And suddenly Equius is back, running and jumping onto the end of the cart Gamzee set you on. You’re shot up into the air, first screaming before swallowing it to clench your muscles and fly. Landing surprisingly smooth, you realize you’ve landed on a familiar grey-furred, black-maned horse. When he turns and you come face to face with Karkat, you almost let yourself breathe again.

“Oh.” You say.

He neighs, and nods his head.

“Karkat. You brought them here?” He neighs again, but he looks around for guards. “Thank you,” You say, leaning forward to rest a hand on his neck. He jerks slightly at the touch but he looks back at you and you really mean it. He motions his head to leave but you’ve come upon a prime opportunity, you can’t pass this up. “No, really. Thank you. I feel,” he growls but you keep going, “maybe this whole time we’ve just been misunderstanding each other and we’re just-” You don’t stop until a few straggler guards emerge onto the rooftop path you and Karkat are on. Karkat takes off and you grab onto his reins. “Yeah we should go!” The two of you reach a the end of the path, and without even stopping for breath the horse leaps off the edge, skidding down the shingles of the building. He--dare you say--strides off the end of the roof and hits the ground with a skid before taking off again. You recognize the town square from yesterday, and when you see the bridge you grip the reins tighter and lean down to lower the wind resistance.

“Alright Karkat, let’s see how fast you can run.” You speak into his ear, pressing the horse even harder as the wind rushes by your heads. He angrily neighs in response, but picks up the pace as fast as he can. The poor thing pulls something about just before he reaches the fake ivy, and he crumples to the ground sending you down too. You get up, and move to help im up when he closes his jaw around your hand for just a brief second. It’s like a bite with no malicious intent.

Looking into his eyes, you can almost read him.

_Go, hurry up and save her you crotch stain._

You nod, and take off sprinting.

 

Reaching the tower, your hands connect hair with the stone and mortar. “Jane!” You yell. “Jane let me up!” When she doesn’t answer, you start to climb the tower with little success until long blonde hair tumbles from the hook. You smile the biggest you have in your life, and grab it to start climbing. It feels a little strange, you figured Jane would lean out to see you or at least help you up, but it doesn’t matter as you finally swing into the open room.

“Jane, I thought I’d never see you again…” You smile gently, brushing off your dirty vest and looking up. Jane’s there, mouth gagged and hands tied up. She’s hurt, glasses broken, bad bruising on her neck, she’s crying for christ’s sake, yelling at you behind her gag. Without thinking you immediately run to help her. And then a shadow moves, and you realize you’ve just been stabbed.

 

_=== >_

_Jane: Scream_

_=== >_

You think you’re screaming, the dirty rag and the bruised neck don’t help but you fight with every ounce of your body. Dirk stumbles, vacantly staring down as blood spurts from his midsection. He looks up, mouth set grim while his eyes are screaming. He falls, a mess that collapses face up half on the broken mirror, and he pulls the shades off to look at you before trying to stop the bleeding.

“Oh don’t worry deary, our secret will die with him.” The Condesce speaks, throwing the blade from her hand onto the floor. “I can’t believe I lost my trident to those thugs and all I got in return was stealing one of their knives. At least it’s the one that did Strider in.” She continues, walking over and pulling you up. You don’t comply though, you wrestle and fight and strain against the thinner but stronger arms that try and lead you down the staircase.

You can see Li’l Seb run over and attach himself onto Condesce’s dress, before she sends him packing with a few harsh kicks. You take the chance to tip your weight and fall back, landing on the floor and looking up at her.

“Jane! Enough already! Stop fighting me!” You manage to work the grimy rag off of your mouth to respond. You can’t cry, you won’t allow yourself to waste your energy and instead you look up at her with your determination burning brighter than it ever has before.

“No! I won’t stop! For every breath, for every second of the rest of my life, I will fight!”

Dirk groans from the mirror and you close your eyes to yell with everything you’ve got.

“I will never stop trying to get away from you! But,” You pause to catch your breath.

“But?” The Condesce speaks.

“But if you let me save him, I will go with you.”

 

“Jane! No, J-Jane..!” Dirk tries to stand up and abandons the idea to wince and groan in pain. You hear Li’l Seb stand back up, and run to try and help Dirk.

“I’ll never try to run, I’ll never try to escape. Just let me heal him, and you and I will be together. Forever. Just like you want.” She looks down at you, unsure and questioning. You speak again. “Just like you want. Just let me save him.”

When she finally moves it’s to rip the grimy fabric off of your neck. You let her, wincing a little at the pain shooting through you.

 

She walks over to Dirk, and shoves him over. His hands get tied and you really don’t like the way his eyes seem to be somewhere else entirely. “So you don’t get any wise ideas about following us.”

She unties you next. Even though the bracelets on your wrists refuse to erase your grounding to the Condesce. “Hurry it up.”

“Dirk!!” You trip over, hands burying themselves in his hair. He’s getting cold, he can’t be getting cold, he’s going to be fine, you can fix him.

“Jane,” He coughs, and wrenches in pain again. “J-Ja…”

“Everything is,” you suck in a breath, “Everything is going to be okay. “

“No… Jane… stop…” He’s fighting you weakly, every movement is powerless and languid.

“I promise, you just have to trust me…”

“No…”

“Come on, just breathe you fool,” You mumble sadly, grabbing his face and jacket. You try to avoid looking at the wound to only end up staring at it.

“I- can’t let you do this.” Dirk weakly fights you again.

“I can’t let you die,” You reply, pressing his arms down with one of your hands, and holding his cheek in your other.

“But-” You try to shoosh him, but he stammers through his thought. “If you… do this… you… will die…”

“Hey, it’s going to be alright.” You say shakily, and you can’t tell if you’re trying to convince him or yourself. You pull up a pile of your hair and press it against his bleeding side. “You’re going to be okay.” You close your eyes and open your mouth to sing when Dirk rouses slightly.

 

“Jane… wait…” Dirk murmurs, and you open your eyes. You try to lean back and a bloody hand settles on your neck. In a flash, Dirk’s other hand moves under your hair, pulling a shard of mirror across your locks.

It all happens in slow motion, and you see Dirk’s pained face before you feel the air on the back of your neck. Dirk cuts your hair, long blonde locks quickly turning black and curling, before your entire head is a deep black. The tracks behind you start to blacken now too, and the Condesce screams chasing down the remaining blonde. His hand just barely makes it all the way through, losing steam and giving your left side a long near shoulder length while your right is above your ear. You don’t notice the length or the Condesce’s movements, nor do you care. Dirk’s eyes are empty and your hands clutch his cheeks.

“D-Dirk… Nononono, oh my god Dirk no…” Your voice won’t come to you and Dirk chuckles, the absolute madman. Your eyes shut and you take one of his blood stained hands to press against your remaining hair. “Dirk- flower gleam and glow, let your power shine,”

“Jane.” He coughs hard at the end of the sentence, and his body goes slack.

“What?”

“You were my new dream.” His orange eyes are boring into yours, and you let yourself smile weakly back.

“And you were mine.” You reply, letting his hand fall to the floor with a thud and holding his head in yours.

 

He’s gone.

 

And finally, you let yourself go. Your hands clutch Dirk’s cheeks and you let out a loud and horrified cry, not caring if it’s rude or ugly, you just let out all of the pent up emotions you’ve held. You’ve loved him. And now he’s gone. Your eyes screw shut and you sob, a loud cry with tears running down your cheeks. Now you can cry, you can grieve. Goddamn if you hold yourself back now. Tears roll down your cheeks, dripping onto Dirk’s face. The words can barely make it out if your throat but you force them out anyway. “Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine... Heal what has been hurt, change the fate’s design. Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine… What once was mine.”

Suddenly, a heat radiates from Dirk’s cheek, a bright and blinding green light that bleeds into his skin from your tears. His body blooms in light, green displays of power surging through his frame as you watch, eyes pinned open and tears still streaking. He’s got you in a death grip, and you can’t help but watch as the light disappears as quickly as it started.

And then his chest moves.

It’s faint, but it’s there and you can manage to stop crying when his eyes flutter open.

“I knew you weren’t a natural blonde,” He breathes, looking up at you with those bright orange eyes. You laugh and dive down to wrap your arms around his chest, hugging the fool so tight he might just die again.

“Dirk!” You pull away for just a second, not caring if he’s complaining and grip his shirt collar to pull him into the most powerful kiss of your entire life. When you break for breath it’s not long, now Dirk’s brain starts working and you let him have another one.

 

_=== >_

_Dirk: Recap for the lovely readers_

_=== >_

Why don’t mind if you do. The two of you managed to get out of the tower, using the now black hair to to make a rope. Jane definitely didn’t have to carry you down. You absolutely weren’t beyond tired and so worn out you couldn’t move. You did demand to be carried bridal style though. No there is no such thing as continuity. You found Karkat again, the horse barely recognized Jane until she went to start singing and pull over a shoulderful of hair, before looking down. She let out a quiet ‘oh.’ and both you and the horse managed to laugh. When the two of you managed to help him up, it was a nice uneventful walk back to the castle, footsteps and gentle neighs intermixed with laughs and groans of theatrical pain from the human ends.

Getting into the castle was difficult, you were about to be arrested again when Jane demanded to see the king and queen. When the guards started making a fuss about it she threatened to burst into tears and hey if her methods work don’t question ‘em.

The two of you were escorted up to the open balcony, gentle breeze ruffling Jane’s near destroyed dress. She looked at you often, and held your hand for a large part of the waiting, up until the doors slammed open. No lying, the King’s nose was the first thing you noticed. He was a stately and clean shaven man, stern and concerned air about him even as his eyes were wide. The queen was crying, long hair pulled back into a bun, and her face red with emotion. There was a pause, you could cut the dense air with a knife as Jane turned around, face dirty and glasses broken. There was no denying it. And when the Queen approached with a hesitant hand, Jane held it against her own cheek.

“Hello moth- mom.” She spoke quietly, looking up at the older woman, crystal blue eyes shining with emotion. And from there, Jane was engulfed in a pair of arms, then two. You were amazed she wasn’t crying yet, but the surprises had barely started.

What got you, was when Jane’s real parents began yelling, and another face appeared. It was a boy, skin leaning more towards the King’s as opposed to Jane’s porcelain, with a mop of familiar black hair. He wore glasses, and when his mouth opened it was clear.

“I have a brother?” Jane spoke, although her voice got caught some way before she finished. And when she sank to her knees, it was a Crockegbert Pile of gooey familial mush hugging and holding and treasuring one another. You quickly learned that yes, there had been a prince born to the family, although he was never referred to as such, he was the heir, and by not being hailed as a monarch he was spared the possibility of being kidnapped as well.

The best part was when they all had managed to calm down from the crying. His voice was hoarse but the heir spoke.

“I knew my sister couldn’t be blonde.” You were about to make a comment when Jane laughed, and reached up to pull you down into the family’s hug. And from that moment on, the kingdom rejoiced. Everyone was ecstatic, the missing princess had finally been returned home, and the kingdom was able to flourish anew. The party lasted an entire week, and honestly even now you can’t remember most of it. Speaking of now, it’s time for the where are they now section. Dreams have come true all over the place.

 

Gamzee has actually been upgraded to the kingdom’s favorite clown, he’s made hundreds entertaining and joking around with people. Jane’s been ever gracious to assist in looking past the grunge and dirt.

Thanks to Karkat, crime in the kingdom managed to disappear overnight. (As did the number of people willing to listen to his obnoxious neighing).

You and Jane? Well you’re doing just fine. Jane’s returned home, and she’s got a real family, new baby brother and all. They have more than a few routine prank wars you get caught in the middle of, but it’s all in good fun. Beloved by all, Little Miss Detective helps lead the kingdom with all the grace and wisdom of her parents. You’ve stopped wearing your shades--or at least some days, around the castle. But a step in the right direction is still a step. Stopped thieving and turned it all around.

 

Now the big question, did you ever get married? Well now that’s a bit nosy isn’t it? You’re doing just fine, and maybe someday you can think about that. Now, you’re distracted by the small soft hand caressing your knuckles. Preoccupied by the round and gentle lips that pull you in like a black hole. Busy getting lost in her embrace. Someday you can worry about what people think, but that won’t be today.

And as the two of you stand on the balcony where everything changed, you know it’s going to be a good evening. Hell, maybe even a good new life sitting just past the ziploc of tomorrow’s sunrise. You just can’t wait to see it, Little Miss Detective by your side the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> Funnily enough I'm actually thinking about doing an epilogue, so maybe it isn't the end yet! A big thank you to everyone who's read and enjoyed tstuck, and another shout out to everyone who's helped me whether it be through inspiration or editing, I love and appreciate you all!


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